


Cause and Effect

by themayqueen



Series: Sweetest Downfall [1]
Category: Hanson
Genre: Abortion, Alcohol, Angst, Couch Sex, Divorce, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Infidelity, One Night Stands, Past Relationship(s), Pregnancy, Secret Relationship, Sexual Content, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-18
Updated: 2013-03-18
Packaged: 2017-12-05 18:29:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 56,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/726463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themayqueen/pseuds/themayqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zac Hanson’s life is a delicate balancing act—recording a new album, being a father and trying to keep his marriage together. When the band temporarily relocates to Nashville, things begin to fall apart. Spencer is a college student living in Nashville. Past mistakes have lead her to become completely devoted to her dreams. Nothing can interfere with her plans—or so she thinks. Zac and Spencer have nothing in common, but a chance meeting leaves its mark. In the aftermath, both will face a difficult decision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Want An Easy Plateau

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually the prologue, but I can't find any way to label it as such.

The door slammed and it sounded like a gunshot. It echoed through the house and reverberated inside Zac’s head. He stood at the screen door staring at Kate, watching her load suitcases into a rental car and studiously avoid staring back at him. 

This was not their first fight, but it was certainly the worst one to date. Zac ran his fingers through his hair, made a mental note to buy shampoo, and tried to remember exactly what had triggered this. He knew that Kate wasn’t enjoying their stay in Nashville, and he couldn’t blame her for that. As much as he loved his brothers, sisters-in-law, nephews and niece, living under the same roof as all of them was not the greatest arrangement. He and Kate had been relegated to the guest house, and he suspected that also bothered her. 

What had started this fight, he supposed, was the accumulation of all the little annoyances that they tried to keep inside. One wrong word and it all came crashing down, and before it was over, Zac had uttered several words that he wished he could take back. He wouldn’t admit it when they argued, but Zac was beginning to realize that maybe he had felt the strain too. When this particular storm hit, it had not caught him entirely off guard.

_I won’t be gone very long. I promise. I just need some time and space, Zachary._

Those were her last words before she walked out the door, intent on driving all night to her parents’ home in Georgia. With their fights always came the trips to Georgia. A few days or weeks to cool off and she was back in his arms. But that had all stopped once Shepherd was born. He thought having their son would fix things, and for a while it seemed he was right.

He heard the slam of the car door and seconds later, the hum of the engine. Zac backed away, his stomach turning at the thought of watching her disappear down the driveway. Closing the door behind him, he sank to the floor. 

“She’ll come back. She always comes back,” Zac whispered. He would make those words his mantra and ignore the lingering doubt.


	2. I Could Rearrange My Usual

Spencer Kerr sighed, and for the first time that day it was a sigh of relief. She had broken a heel, gotten hit on by a freshman and had her adviser blow off yet another meeting – altogether, not the greatest beginning for a week. Surveying the coffee shop while waiting for her cappuccino, she was infinitely relieved to find her favorite couch in the back of the room unoccupied. _Thank God for small miracles_ , she thought, taking hold of the steaming cup and heading for the perfect seat.

She took full advantage of the privacy afforded her by this corner, covering the coffee table in front of her with all the work her students had turned in earlier in the day. Kicking off her borrowed slippers, she curled up on the couch and pulled an ink pen out of the messy bun she had constructed to occupy her time during a particularly boring 8am lecture.

Absently picking up the cappuccino for another sip, Spencer was surprised to discover it had grown cold. A glance at her cell phone told her that she had been grading papers for nearly an hour, yet the stack seemed to be growing rather than shrinking. It would take at least one more dose of espresso to get her through the rest of her work for the day. Cursing herself for accepting the teaching assistantship, Spencer glanced up to see how long the line was and was surprised to see someone headed for her corner. His head swayed slightly to the music pumping through his earbuds, but he seemed otherwise completely consumed by the notebook in his right hand, so much so that he didn’t notice Spencer at all.

Spencer watched in amused silence as this stranger shuffled over to the seat across from her couch. His shoulder length blond hair was a ratted mess and, like his shirt and worn jeans, didn’t appear to have been washed particularly recently. Anywhere but a coffee shop in Nashville, this boy would have looked severely out of place. As he lowered himself into the chair, she feigned a loud cough.

“Oh, Jesus!” the boy exclaimed and fell the last few inches into the chair, his latte splattering across the coffee table in the process.

“It’s okay,” Spencer laughed, “I think you probably improved some of them.”

He sighed, and raked a hand through his messy blond hair before finally smiling. Spencer guessed that he was probably close to her age, but he looked utterly exhausted. He picked at a spot on his jeans, looking as though he wanted to speak but wasn’t sure what to say.

“You’re welcome to sit here. I don’t mind,” Spencer volunteered, hoping that was enough to break the tension.

Pulling out his earbuds, he nodded and smiled again. “Thanks. I think you’ve got the quietest spot in the room, and that’s exactly what I need.”

Spencer tucked the pen back into her hair, figuring she could use at least a short break, and replied, “Yep, that’s why I love to sit back here. Best place to grade papers. I’m Spencer, by the way.”

“You’re a teacher? You don’t really look the part,” the boy replied, then added, “Oh, and I’m Zac.”

Spencer resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Glancing down at her outfit, she was forced to admit that her combination of pinstripe pants, vintage tee shirt and vest did not exactly suit a teacher. Tugging on a stray curl, she explained, “I’m a graduate student. English Lit. I’m not a teacher or a professor, really. I just get paid to deal with the freshman because the regular professors don’t want to.”

Zac laughed, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t know anything about that. Never been to college.”

Surveying Zac’s appearance again, Spencer retorted, “Let me guess. Musician?”

“Is it that obvious?” Zac raised an eyebrow.

Spencer grinned. “Called it an educated guess.”

“Well I think I’ll be a starving musician soon if these songs don’t start writing themselves,” Zac replied, shaking his notebook.

“You gotta suffer for your art, right?” Spencer offered.

The corner of Zac’s mouth twitched, but neither a smile nor a laugh followed. Sensing she had hit some strange nerve, Spencer grabbed her cold drink and stood up. “I’m just gonna go get another cappuccino. I practically mainline espresso when I’m working.”

As she walked to the front of the café and entered the line, Spencer replayed the conversation in her head. Her humor was not always well-received, she knew, and Zac seemed to have taken that particular statement a bit more literally than Spencer had intended. Ultimately there was no point worrying too much about it, she decided; after all, she had just met the guy. Still, she was a talkative person and it was frustrating when someone didn’t respond to her overtures in a way that satisfied her curiosity. As she walked back to the couch with a fresh cup in hand, she saw that Zac had apparently recovered from any awkwardness in their conversation. With his notebook and pen in hand, he sat back in the chair humming to himself. Shaking her head, Spencer pulled another pen out of her hairdo and returned to her work.

****

“It’s been a week, Kate.”

“I know.”

Zac frowned. He didn’t really know what he had hoped to gain by pointing out the obvious, but he wished Kate could found something more to say. It had been the same way every day that he had called; a one-sided conversation with him trying desperately to elicit any sort of response from the woman who was supposed to be his wife.

After an excruciatingly long pause, Kate spoke again. “I don’t know when I’ll be back, alright? I’m not ready yet. When I am, you’ll know.”

It was as close to an answer as he expected to get. Zac nodded, knowing Kate couldn’t see the gesture. “Alright. Is Shepherd doing okay?”

“He’s fine. I can be a good mother, you know,” Kate snapped.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t!” Zac exclaimed. Once again, he had put his foot in his mouth without even trying. He shuddered to think of the damage he could do if he actually meant to offend.

“He misses his daddy, Zac.”

Was that supposed to make him feel guilty? Zac wasn’t sure. He shifted the phone to his other ear, and replied, “I miss him, too. Of course I do.”

He could hear Kate’s sigh and hoped she hadn’t rolled her eyes as well. “Listen, I’ve got to go shopping. I’ll call you when I decide to come back. We don’t need to talk every day.”

“I just want to talk to my wife, Kate. I didn’t realize that was a problem,” Zac answered, trying not to sound as angry as he was becoming.

“I know, I just… just forget it. Goodbye, Zac.” With a click, she ended the conversation.

Zac tossed the phone, sending it skittering across the kitchen counter. He buried his head in his hands and let out a muffled groan. When he looked up, Natalie was standing in front of him, a baby bottle in one hand and the other hand on her hip.

“I don’t know what to do, Nat. I try to do everything right but it seems like it’s not enough or it all just goes wrong anyway,” Zac blurted out without thinking. He had always considered Natalie a close friend, but discussing marital problems with her made him uncomfortable. After all, she and Kate were best friends and he was quite certain whose side she would take, if it came down to it.

Natalie’s expression softened, and she laid a hand on Zac’s arm. “Just give her some more time. She’s stubborn, but she’ll come around. It’ll all work out, just like it always does.”

That’s the problem, Zac thought. He knew how the fights always ended. He just didn’t know how to keep them from starting. Spending the rest of his life trying to solve that puzzle was beginning to sound very, very tiring.


	3. Life Like A Card House

It became something of a routine. That corner of Strange Brew had been Spencer’s favorite since she discovered it during her first semester at Vanderbilt, and during the first few years, friends had often joined her there to hang out between classes. Now that she was buried under her graduate coursework, Spencer mostly occupied that corner by herself when she could get away in the afternoons. Having someone to join her there was a refreshing change, even if Zac did seemed more inclined to sip his coffee and scribble in his notebooks than engage in conversation. For the past week, the two had occupied the back couch and chairs in relative silence, Spencer occasionally regaling him with humorous quotes from her beloved freshmen and, much less frequently, Zac singing a verse or two softly. 

“It sucks,” Zac said, tearing a page from his notebook and crushing it in his palm. 

“It doesn’t suck,” Spencer replied.

Shaking his head, Zac repeated, “It sucks.”

Setting down her cup and papers, Spencer shrugged. “Alright, so it isn’t Stairway to Heaven. How many songs are?”

“Just the one, I suppose,” Zac replied. He gave the offending slip of paper another look, then shrugged and shoved it in his pocket.

Chewing on the end of her pen, Spencer leaned back against the couch. “You just need to loosen up a bit. Write something fun, something silly. Just take your mind off writing the perfect song and write one that’s just fun.”

Zac frowned, and Spencer suspected she had hit another nerve. She seemed to have developed knack for that even though, for all intents and purposes, this boy was still a stranger to her. Her cell phone’s familiar ring interrupted this line of thought and, Spencer supposed, gave Zac an excuse not to respond. 

Recognizing her best friend Abbey’s ringtone, Spencer flipped the phone open and greeted her. “Why hello there, lover. What’s up?”

Abbey snickered. “Not much, sweetcheeks. Just two things. First, I was thinking about picking up Japanese takeout on the way back from work.”

Spencer smiled. She and Abbey had been best friends since their second year at Vanderbilt when Abbey transferred in. Now, with Spencer still in college and Abbey working for a local magazine, they shared an apartment and an odd sense of humor. Licking her lips, Spencer replied, “Good plan. Pick up some tuna rolls for me?”

“Will do,” Abbey replied, then hesitated before adding, “The second thing, though…”

“Yeah?” Spencer prodded, aware that it probably wasn’t anything pleasant, based on Abbey’s reluctance.

“Well, the thing is… I heard Daniel is back in town. I thought you would want to know, before you ran into him somewhere.”

“Oh, that’s fucking fabulous,” Spencer groaned. Daniel was her ex-boyfriend, and far as she was concerned, the worst mistake she had made as an undergrad. When he left Nashville the previous spring, she and Abbey had toasted marshmallows over the flames of everything he had left in the girls’ apartment.

“Yeah, I know. I don’t know whether he’s flunked out or just come back for the summer, but either way you’ll probably see him before too long. Try not to get yourself arrested,” Abbey laughed, then exclaimed. “Shit! I gotta run. Later, hun.”

“I’ll do my best. See ya later,” Spencer shook her head, laughing at her roommate’s admittedly short attention span. Closing her phone, she looked up at Zac, having nearly forgotten that he was listening in on one end of her conversation.

“Not asking, don’t wanna know,” Zac chuckled nervously.

Spencer tossed her cell phone down, wishing she hadn’t answered the phone call at all. “I’m sorry you had to hear that. I just found out my ex is back in town.”

Zac grimaced. “Oh, great. I haven’t had to deal with anything like that for a while, but I’m guessing it’s just as fun as I remember.”

“It’ll be a barrel of fucking monkeys, I’m sure,” Spencer smirked, picking up an essay at random and trying to concentrate on reading it.

Zac glanced down at his watch. “Well I hate to run off in your hour of need, but we’re supposed to start recording this afternoon and I imagine they’ll pissed if the drummer isn’t present.”

With that, Zac gathered his things and left, shuffling his way through the crowd toward the front door. Spencer watched his retreat, realizing with amusement that until that moment, she hadn’t even known what instrument he played. She added that to her mental list of things she didn’t know about him. Number one on the list was his surname; number two, his intentions. Although, she had a sneaking suspicion that he didn’t know the second one either. She couldn’t pinpoint anything particularly flirtatious in their conversations, but it didn’t dissuade her from that line of thought. 

Spencer stirred her coffee listlessly. There was nothing wrong with Zac, no fatal flaw for her to pinpoint and completely dismiss him. She enjoyed talking to him, even enjoyed just sitting in silence next to him. There always seemed to be something a little bit below the surface that he just wasn’t willing to let go of, and it frustrated Spencer to no end. A guy hadn’t sparked her attention like that since… 

Since Daniel.

It was an unwelcome thought. He was an unwelcome person. As much as Spencer found herself frustrated and confused by Zac, Daniel’s presence was even less welcome. His arrival was a terrible way to punctuate what might have been a decent week. 

****

Another half hour was all Spencer needed to see that her concentration was completely gone. The thought of Daniel’s return had ruined her ability to accomplish anything, so she packed up and began the walk back to her apartment. Ten minutes later, she was relaxing on the couch of the apartment she and Abbey shared, watching reruns of House will she awaited Abbey’s arrival. When the first commercial break began, Spencer jumped up and walked to the kitchen. As she was surveying the contents of the fridge, a knock came at the door.

“Just a sec!” Spencer called out, finally deciding on a beer and slamming the fridge door closed. Popping the top off her Boston Lager as she walked to the front door, she wondered just how much food Abbey had brought home if she couldn’t even open the door by herself. It wouldn’t be the first time, given how much both roommates loved Japanese food.

She flung the door open, then turned to walk back to the couch. Taking a drink, Spencer called behind her, “You got home just in time, Abbey. House is on and I think it’s actually lupus this time.”

Realizing that her roommate hadn’t responded, Spencer turned around and nearly dropped her beer. Standing in the doorway, a cigarette hanging off his lip and a sheepish expression on his face, was Daniel. 

“A little warning would have been nice, you know,” Spencer spat, throwing herself onto the couch and leaving Daniel standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“I just wanted to see how you were holding up, that’s all,” he said, removing the cigarette from his lip and walking into the apartment.

Spencer gaped. “Holding up? Was I supposed to fall to pieces when you left? I’m getting along just fine without you.”

Taking a seat on the couch next to her, Daniel replied. “I’m sorry, I didn’t really mean it like that It’s just that I _have_ missed you, you know. And I wanted to see how you were.”

Glaring down into the beer bottle, Spencer decided this conversation would have been much easier were she drunk. “I’m fine. Absolutely fine. How is law school?”

“I’m dropping out,” Daniel replied, running a hand through his dark hair. “I’ve got an apartment and a job lined up here in Nashville, just something to occupy my time until I figure out another plan.”

“And what, you were hoping we could get together again?” Spencer asked, holding back a laugh at just how ridiculous the entire situation was.

With a low growl, Daniel snuffed out his cigarette in a half-empty pop can that sat abandoned on the coffee table. He edged closer to Spencer, and answered, “I said I’ve missed you Spence, and I mean it. I know we weren’t on good terms when I left, but I’ve done a lot of thinking and I want us to start over.”

Spencer shrugged off the hand Daniel tried to lay on her shoulder, and took another swig of her beer. “That’s your problem, Daniel! Everything is always about what you want. We parted on bad terms because you were mad that I wouldn’t follow you to Atlanta. I don’t really care that you want to start over, because it is over for me. Over.”

Standing up, Daniel fumbled in his pockets for another cigarette. “Alright, fine. Have it your way. Call me if you change your mind.”

With that, he turned on his heel and was out the door before Spencer could reply. It had always been that way with Daniel; he had to have the last word. She sucked down the last of her beer and was fully prepared to chuck the bottle at him when she heard the door creak open again. This time, however, it was Abbey and an armful of Japanese takeout.

“Did I just pass that creep Daniel on the stairs?” Abbey asked, walking through the living room to set her bundle of food down on the kitchen counter. 

“The one and only,” Spencer nodded, plodding over to the counter and sitting down on a stool. “Grab another beer for me, will you?”

“What did he want?” Abbey inquired, pulling two beers out of the fridge and grabbing two plates from the dish rack by the sink.

Spencer rummaged through the plastic bags on the counter, finally finding the one that held her tuna rolls. Dumping them out of the takeout box onto a plate, she answered Abbey, “To get back together. Can you believe that?”

“You’re shitting me, right?” Abbey eyed Spencer incredulously.

“God, I wish I were,” Spencer replied, grabbing a carton that smelled suspiciously like hibachi chicken. She hadn’t asked for anything more than a few tuna rolls, but that never stopped Abbey from bringing home enough food to hold them over for a week.

Pointing her fork at Spencer, Abbey said, “You need a date. Or a night out drinking. Something to get your mind off him.”

Spencer shook her head. “No dates. Definitely no dates.”

“Oh, what about that boy from the coffee shop?” Abbey asked, smiling.

“No, I don’t think so,” Spencer replied. “We’ve just been talking for a few days. Nothing is happening there.”

“Then maybe I can cheer you up,” Abbey replied between mouthfuls of udon noodles. “I have to go to a concert tomorrow night at The Basement, and I’m allowed to bring a guest. How about getting seriously drunk with me?”

Spencer smiled. A night out with Abbey was always entertaining. Abbey’s job writing for the music section of _The Pulse_ allowed her to attend all the hottest new clubs and bars in Nashville, and she often brought her best friend with her. 

“Alright, let’s do it. Who are we seeing this time?” Spencer asked.

Abbey pulled a folder out of her oversized purse and scanned it’s contents, then giggled. “Hanson. Those boys have grown up, and _well_.”

“Oh, please. You are not drooling over Hanson,” Spencer laughed, snatching the folder out of the other girl’s hand. At the front of the folder was a promotional photo of the band and for a moment, Spencer could only stare at it in silence, a forgotten tuna roll threatening to fall out of her other hand.

Abbey smirked. “See? Told you they were hot.”

Spencer finally managed to gasp out, “My boy from the coffee shop? Looks like I’ll be seeing him after all.”

“What are you talking about?” Abbey asked, slurping up a noodle.

“Because,” Spencer began, slamming the photo down on the counter and pointing to Zac Hanson, “that’s him.”


	4. Making My Heart Turn Blue

“We’re playing a show tonight. It’s in this really cool little bar.” Zac knew Kate didn’t care to hear the boring details of his days, but he knew it was easier to talk about that and avoid anything serious. He could hear her soft sigh in the background and he wished he hadn’t called her at all.

“A little bar?” She finally replied. “I thought you guys were going to be playing some bigger places this time.”

Zac groaned, “I like playing these little shows. Besides, this is just something fun to get us out of the studio for a while, show off some of the new songs. We’ll have a full tour soon enough.”

“And I suppose you’ll want me to come along and bring Shepherd?”

“Well, if you’re still planning on being my wife then –” Zac began, then bit his lip to stop the flow of words. Sometimes he could be such an ass he even hated himself, and this was certainly one of those times. He stared at his shoes, dreading Kate’s response. Her silence only made him feel worse.

With venom in her voice, Kate replied, “You just make it seem so appealing, Zac. How can I resist?”

Switching the phone from one hand to the other, Zac replied slowly, choosing each word with care. “I’m sorry, baby. Don’t you see how hard this is on me? You’ve got me stuck in this fucking limbo and I can’t get out. I know I’m not perfect, but I try not to fuck everything up too bad and when I do, I try to fix it. But what am I supposed to do when you don’t even want to be in the same state as me?”

“If I had answers for you, I would be there giving them to you. And as long as I’m surrounded by your entire family, I’m not gonna find any answers. I need to be here now. Just try to understand that,” Kate replied.

Zac frowned. He could hear the finality in what Kate had said. She didn’t want to discuss it any more, and he wouldn’t have a choice but to let it be. “Alright, okay. I’m going to rehearsal now. I’m not calling again. You can call me if you ever feel like it.”

He suspected he would regret it later, but for now he didn’t plan to. Before Kate could get in another word, he had slammed the phone back onto its receiver. 

****

“Fuck! This is not working, Abbey!” Spencer yelled, fighting to pull a brush through her hair. She had attempted to straighten her ginger curls for the night, but it appeared to have been in vain, as they struggled to frizz and poof despite her best efforts. 

Abbey strode into their shared bathroom confidently, a can of hairspray in her left hand and a giant wire brush in the other. Her naturally straight hair lay perfectly across her shoulders as usual, and she looked stunning as ever in a yellow sundress and black tights. With a toss of her hair, she appraised the situation and said, “I don’t know why you complain so much, Spencer. You look gorgeous. But here, let me work on it.”

“I disagree, but alright. Have at it. See if you can tame the beast,” Spencer replied, bending her knees slightly so Abbey could work her magic. Staring at herself in the mirror, she decided that, except for the hair, things weren’t looking too bad. Her outfit was a simple black miniskirt and a white tank, with a tangle of hastily chosen necklaces slung around her neck. She still wasn’t sure why it seemed necessary to put so much effort into her appearance for this concert. What were the chances she would actually see Zac in person? Would he even want to talk to her now that she knew who he really was? In the last twenty hours, it had become glaringly obvious to Spencer just why Zac seemed so mysterious. He obviously didn’t _want_ her to know who he really was.

Spencer resisted the urge to shake her head lest she ruin Abbey’s work, and resigned herself to mentally trying to erase thoughts of Zac from her mind. He had been occupying her mind far too much for the past week, and to what end? Nothing would come of their coffee routine; Spencer was certain of this. She willed herself to think of a blank slate, and as if on cue, her cell phone rang out to ruin her concentration.

“You can answer it. I’m finished,” Abbey said, giving Spencer’s hair one final spritz of extra hold hairspray.

Spencer leaned over the counter to pick up her phone and considered hurling it at the wall when she saw “Daniel” on the screen. Then she thought better of it, knowing he would only continue to call if she didn’t answer. On the third repeat of her ringtone, she finally answered. 

“Hello?”

“Hey… how are you doing?” Daniel asked.

Spencer sighed, “I’m fine.”

An awkward silence followed, and she was certain Daniel was working up to something. “Look, I know I was kind of an ass yesterday. But if you give me a chance –”

“Just yesterday, Daniel? Really?” Spencer cut him off, hoping not to start an argument but also wanting to stand her ground for once.

“I probably deserve that. But Jesus, just let me apologize for this once, okay?” 

Spencer scowled at her reflection, leaning in to reapply her lipstick. “Fine. Apologize away.”

Daniel coughed, then said. “Good. I’m sorry I thought we could just start over like nothing ever happened. Obviously you aren’t ready to be that adult about it, but I’m not giving up hope yet.”

“Way to wrap up that apology in an insult, asshole. What was the point of this phone call? Honestly, now,” Spencer spat into the phone.

“Like I said, I just wanted to apologize and try again. If we could just get together tomorrow, maybe…” Daniel trailed off, sounding as though he were realizing the futility of his efforts.

“No. Just no. Not until _you_ are ready to admit how much of a fucking child you’ve been. And even if it ended badly, I don’t want to erase the year I spent with you. Realize that. Understand that. And understand that it happened the way it did for a reason. Then I’ll think about sharing an awkward cup of coffee with you,” Spencer replied, pleased with her ability to be so firm and decisive.

“Well then forgive me for expecting anything at all from you,” Daniel said.

“There’s an apology I’ll fucking accept. Now if you’ll please excuse me, I have some alcohol to drink so I can forget about this phone call,” Spencer replied, then pressed the end button with all her might. Looking up, she saw that Abbey was still in the room, looking somewhat uncomfortable as she brushed her own hair. 

“You okay, Spence?” Abbey asked, placing the brush on the counter and evaluating her looks in the mirror.

Spencer sighed. “I’ll be fine. It’s just… ugh, he drives me crazy. He’s such an ass but he does it with charm. What do you with a guy like that?”

Turning away from the mirror to face her roommate, Abbey smiled. “You say ‘fuck him’ and get drunk with me at a Hanson concert. That’s the only sensible solution.”

****

Spencer leaned back against the wall of the crowded venue, clutching a rum and coke that she hoped was only her third, even though the room’s sudden tilt made her suspect that she had lost count. She had lost Abbey to the crowd almost as soon as the two arrived, but that was how it usually worked. Although Spencer was not particularly shy, she was perfectly content to sip her drink and enjoy the show in silence. Truth be told, she enjoyed it much more than she expected. She was pleased to pick out several of the lyrics Zac had tested out on her mixed in amongst songs she had never heard before and a few that she thought she recognized from the radio.

As the show neared its end, the other two brothers took their bows and left Zac by himself. He left his drumset and sat down on a stool near the front of the stage. He adjusted the seat for longer than necessary, picked up a guitar from beside the stool, then cleared his throat before finally leaning in to the microphone. His voice almost quavering, he said, “I just finished this song a few days ago. A friend of mine told me to write something lighthearted, but I think I’d rather just write something honest. So here it is.”

Spencer let the meaning of his words sink in as he played the first few notes. Who else could the friend be but her? She watched his fingers plucking the guitar’s strings with little of the confidence he had exhibited on the drums. The melody seemed familiar, one that perhaps she had heard Zac humming softly to himself, but the lyrics were completely new. His voice almost shook as he worked his way through the lyrics, and Spencer felt herself shaking as well as the raw emotion of his song. The words were simple, but haunting. As the song faded out to the audience’s applause, those lyrics still hung in her mind.

 _Every day she’s serving coffee_  
 _Walking in her high heeled shoes_  
 _Any time she wears her hair down  
_ _Oh, another day I lose_

_She don’t know_  
 _She don’t care about it_  
 _She’s a watershed,  
_ _Making my heart turn blue_

_She’s a watershed,_   
_Making my heart turn blue_

With the song still echoing inside her, Spencer walked to the bar in a daze. She ordered another rum and coke and winced at how light her wallet had become over the course of the night. Taking large gulps of the sweet drink, she turned and made her way through the crowd and up the stairs to the bar’s door. Once outside, she leaned against the wall to steady herself and slow her breathing. When the door opened, a few notes of some anonymous acoustic rock drifted out and caught her ear. Spencer shivered when she noticed Zac standing a few feet away by the door, clutching a beer nervously. She cleared her throat to catch his attention.

“Your little band is a lot better than you let on, you know,” she said with a smile, setting her glass down by the wall.

Zac blushed softly as he replied, “I don’t go around advertising that I’m a Hanson, you know. I liked the privacy there the coffee shop with you. I don’t get that very much. I had no idea you were going to be here.”

“I had no idea I was going to be here either,” Spencer said, laughing. “My roommate invited me yesterday. That’s when I realized who you were.”

“So you aren’t a fan, then?” Zac asked, taking a swig of his Pabst. “I mean, I know I don’t look the same now, but I still get recognized occasionally.”

Spencer shook her head. “No. I mean, I wasn’t. I think I am now. Especially that last song…”

Zac nodded. “I stayed up all night working on it. I just felt like it needed to be finished for this show. I think I was right.”

Spencer moved closer to him, trembling a little as she tried to stay steady in her stilettos. “I’m glad I got a chance to hear it. You know, you’re more talented than you give yourself credit for. You’re just full of surprises.”

“Surprises? What do you mean?” Zac questioned, still clutching his now empty beer bottle. 

“Well, you said yourself that it was obvious I didn’t know who you were. How often do you play the mysterious stranger and befriend unsuspecting girls like me?” she replied, then immediately regretted her words. She could always count on rum to loosen her tongue.

Zac placed his beer bottle on the pavement, then inched himself closer to Spencer. The heavy smell of beer hung in the air between them as he replied, “Never. I never do anything like that. I don’t think I would even know how to be that cunning. I’m not as smart as you’ve taken me for.”

“No, I suppose you aren’t that conniving,” Spencer smiled softly, taking another bold step closer to Zac. “Still, no ulterior motives at all?”

Zac ran a hand through his hair, and shook his head. “I honestly don’t know anymore. I just don’t know.”

“Doesn’t that make it even more fun, sometimes?” Spencer spoke, barely above a whisper.

“Maybe you’re right,” Zac replied, taking one last step to close to space between them. Tentatively, he placed a hand on her waist.

Spencer smirked, tilting her head to look up at Zac. “I’m always right.”

Her overly confident words hung in the air for a moment, occupying the mere inches of space between the two. They locked eyes for a moment and Spencer shivered. Zac leaned in and she could feel his breath against her skin. She closed her eyes and savored the soft, warm tickle. When she did so, he pressed his lips against hers in a soft and tentative kiss.

Spencer sighed softly into Zac’s mouth, parting her lips slightly in response to his advances. Her right hand crept up his chest, feeling the soft material of his shirt move with his breath. She paused where the top few buttons had been left open, her hand grazing the soft skin of his chest. Then she felt it. She grasped the chain in her hand as she pulled away from the kiss. Opening her eyes, she saw her fears confirmed. A gold band dangling from the chain around his neck. She saw his eyes grow wide, and she knew without a doubt.

Zac stared at her for a moment, then stuttered. “I would tell you I can explain, but… I can’t. It is what it is.”

Spencer nodded slowly, releasing the chain and backing away. She blinked a few times, but it didn’t change the scene unfolding in front of her eyes. Finally, she spoke, “I should go. I should really, really go. You really are full of surprises.”


	5. Volcanoes Melt Me Down

Spencer wanted to scream. Her boldness increased by the thick concrete walls of her apartment, she did just that. She screamed and screamed until her lungs burned and her vision blurred. She was thankful that Abbey had stayed outside to finish her cigarette because her rum-addled mind was not ready to face her friend’s opinion of the situation. When she could scream no more and felt her voice reduced to a shallow croak collapsed onto her bed. She wiggled out of her clothes and curled up under the covers, not even caring enough to put on pajamas. Eventually, the cool comfort of her blankets lulled her to sleep.

When she woke the next morning, he was the first thought in her mind. She tried to blink his face away, but to no avail. After a time, she peeled back the covers and pulled herself out of bed. Slipping an oversized shirt over her head, Spencer trudged to the bathroom and stared herself down in the mirror. Her hair was a frizzed mess and her eyes were rimmed with dark smears of eyeshadow and mascara. She snarled at the mirror; her appearance was yet another unwelcome reminder of the night before. 

She stripped out of her clothes and stepped into the shower, turning the water on high. The thick smell of beer and sweat seemed to cling to her, persisting even through an hour of scrubbing with three different scents of body wash. Even the mint and wax taste of his chapstick seemed permanently imprinted on her mouth. Finally abandoning hope of washing Zac away, Spencer turned off the shower and wrapped herself in a towel. Too exhausted to care, she donned the first semi-clean clothes she could find in the hamper. Without another look in the mirror, she padded to the kitchen and straight for the refrigerator shelf that held her beer.

Abbey looked up from the bowl of cereal she was pouring and remarked, “You know, I’m not sure that more alcohol is the best hangover cure I’ve ever heard of.”

Spencer grunted as she popped the top off the bottle. “You assume I’m trying to cure a hangover, when in fact, I’m trying to continue my inebriation. Slight, but very important, difference.”

“Alright, spill the beans,” Abbey demanded. “I thought you drowned all your sorrows last night.”

Following her roommate to the couch and sinking into its cushions, Spencer let out a long and drawn out sigh. Her voice was still hoarse, but surprisingly not entirely absent. Finally, she turned to Abbey and explained, “Put it this way. I’ll be in trouble if Zac Hanson’s wife finds out about last night.”

“You brazen hussy!” Abbey exclaimed, dropping her spoon and wiggling her eyebrows with a suggestive mixture of shock and excitement.

“For fuck’s sake, Abs. I only kissed him. But he’s still a married man,” Spencer said, regretting her choice to share this with her friend. How could she expect Abbey to understand why this was tormenting her when she could not even fully understand it herself? 

With a mouthful of cereal, Abbey commented, “Well either way, it sounds like somebody was lying when she said she was just friends with him…”

Staring down into her beer bottle, Spencer replied, “I meant it, when I said it. Now I don’t know. I mean, it was just a kiss and under any other circumstances I would say it was completely harmless. But he sang this song and it got to me. I thought maybe… God, I sound like an idiot. I was supposed to learn a lesson from Daniel, damn it. I’m not supposed to fall for the first guy who shows even a fleeting interest in me. Especially one so fucking wrong for me. And I think we can both agree that Zac is about seven shades of wrong.”

“I’m not arguing with you. I agree completely. All I know is I haven’t seen you this emotional over anything or anyone since Daniel left,” Abbey remarked.

“I know. And that’s why I hate this so much. I don’t even know _what_ I feel, but it needs to stop. And it can take all my other emotions with it.”

****

Four days and two hours. He was holding to his word; he had not called Kate even once. Not surprisingly, she had not called him either. Zac had resigned himself to the fact that daily phone calls were out of the question. But he knew that was not his only reason for steering clear of the phone. 

It was _her_. 

He could not bear the thought of speaking to his wife when images of his infidelity occupied every inch of his brain. All the excuses and rationalizations in the world would not erase Saturday night. When he walked into that coffee shop for the first time, he had not planned any of this. An innocent friendship, that was all Zac wanted. 

Zac pulled his cap down further over his furrowed brow. Mentally, he laughed at himself. Like an ostrich in the sand, he wanted to hide behind the bill of his cap and pretend the world wasn’t moving around him. If only that were actually possible, he thought. Stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets, Zac glared down at the street below him. He studied the cracks and stains intently, trying to distract himself from his destination. 

Four days and two hours since he had spoken to his wife.

Three days, sixteen hours and 27 minutes since his giant fuck up.

He was not going to call Kate. He could keep himself from that. But he could not stop his feet from continuing on their path, back to that damned coffee shop. Back to the beginning of his downward spiral.

****

“Caramel cappuccino? I think that’s the one you like, isn’t it?” Zac stood over Spencer’s chair, looking sheepish and holding out his steaming peace offering.

Spencer wanted to be mad. She wanted to turn her head and not speak to him. She wanted to do anything but stare at him in stunned silence. But his face looked sincere and it shattered her reserve. With a gentle nod, she reached for the cup. Her fingers brushed against his and for a split second lingered there, feeling the calloused skin and how, ever so subtly, he trembled. 

Hesitantly, Zac sat down beside Spencer – close but not too close – and began, “I don’t think I came here to apologize. I guess if I were a decent guy, I would have. But I just came here because, well, I wanted to see you again. Talk to you again. Find any sense of normalcy there might be left here.”

“I’m not sure there was any normalcy here to begin with. Just a false sense of it that you cultivated,” Spencer responded.

Zac winced. He took a moment to look into Spencer’s eyes before he spoke again, and once he had convinced himself that he saw no true animosity, he continued, “You’re right. But I needed that. I needed honesty. I needed someone just to listen or just to be near. I didn’t want an agenda. And I didn’t think you had one. I didn’t think I had one either.”

“And now you think you do? I mean, I think we all have agendas, even when we don’t want to admit or even realize it,” Spencer replied.

“I don’t know. Maybe. Now I think that I need to stop assuming life can ever be easy. I thought what I wanted was innocent, but it can’t be. It can never be innocent because I’m looking for something I’m supposed to already have,” Zac blurted out, the words seeming to fall out of his mouth almost as though he were realizing the truth in them even he spoke them.

“You’re married.” 

Zac swallowed hard. “Yeah, and it’s a shambles.”

Spencer wrinkled her nose and said, “Well? Somehow that doesn’t come as a surprise.”

Inching closer to her, Zac continued, “Look, I know it sounds like its my fault that my marriage is messed up. And yeah, I’m not helping things now. But I’ve tried. God, I’ve tried. Believe that. It’s like, we’ve never been quite right, though. I’m the husband she wanted, but I was probably never the one she needed. Now I know I’m not.”

“I don’t know why you’re telling me all this. What am I supposed to do with all of this?” Spencer asked. Part of her wanted to shrink away from Zac’s advances. The other part, to her surprise, called out to be even closer to him. 

With a boldness that he did not know he possessed, Zac ran his hand through a strand of Spencer’s hair. “Fuck if I know. I just want to tell you. I just want you to know me. I know you still won’t trust me, because God knows I wouldn’t trust me, but at least you’ll know. What you do with all that is up to you.”

“What I do with it,” Spencer repeated, her voice breaking as Zac’s hand traveled to her cheek.

“I’m not asking you for anything. I wouldn’t even know what to ask for, or how to ask it,” Zac replied, letting his hand fall back to his side.

“I wouldn’t know what to give,” Spencer admitted.

Zac turned away from Spencer and bent his head. His face was all but completely obscured by his low-slung baseball cap and the lock of hair that had escaped his ponytail. Softly, he spoke, still looking down at the table. “I just want something to make sense. That’s all. But it all keeps going to hell. If you want this to stop here and now, you’d be the wiser of us.”

“Don’t assume I can be the one to make the intelligent choices. You don’t know my track record. If you did, you’d probably be less inclined to want or ask for anything of me,” Spencer said softly, lowering her head and trying to meet Zac’s eyes.

“Well, I’d like the chance to decide that for myself,” Zac replied.

“I can’t predict the future.”

“That’s about the best reply I guess I could have hoped for. But I need to go. Recording, you know. If you ever want to see me again, you will.” Zac’s words were more decisive than his voice. He pounded his fist on the table softly to punctuate the statement, then stood. He pushed back his cap and held Spencer’s gaze for a second before walking away.

She did not breathe until he was out of sight. If she exhaled, she felt it might all fall apart like a mirage or a dream you wake up from too soon. Once the door had shut behind him, Spencer sunk into the couch, feeling deflated. She glanced at the coffee table. Her cappuccino had long since stopped steamed and she was certain it had gone cold. That didn’t bother her so much, but the slip of paper next to it did. The handwriting was sloppy and she was almost afraid to read it, but it looked suspiciously like a phone number. 


	6. Waiting For The Chorus

Zac woke up to the sound of someone pounding on his door. The screen door rattled under their fist and he could not pull his blankets up far enough to drown out the din. He rolled over and tossed off the blankets, immediately regretting the move. Evidently, in his tipsy state the night before, he had left the blinds open, and he paid the price for his drunken forgetfulness as he blinked and stumbled his way to the door.

“For fuck’s sake, Zac! Finally. Do you know what time it is?” Isaac screeched even before Zac had opened the door halfway.

Zac looked down at himself, clad only in a pair of boxer briefs and the day before’s shirt, then looked back at Isaac. “Even if I did, does it look like I care?”

“No, not particularly,” Isaac replied, digging through his pockets for a lighter to light the cigarette already perched on his lip. “But since you’ve obviously forgotten, Johnny Walker, we have a radio thing today.”

“Fantastic,” Zac replied, leaning against the door frame. His brother’s annoyance almost amused him, and Zac wondered if that was a sign that he hadn’t entirely slept off all the whiskey he had downed before collapsing into bed a few hours earlier.

Isaac exhaled a cloud of smoke in Zac’s face. “Look, we’re leaving in thirty minutes. You can either come with us or stay here, I don’t really care. But if you stay here, I’m making you do the next interview all by yourself.”

“Fine, whatever. I’ll put pants on,” Zac replied, then stumbled away from the door and kicked his foot at a pile of clothes by the couch.

“By the way, you stink. When was your last shower, man?” Isaac craned his neck to look into the room.

“Umm… what day is it again?” Zac picked up a pair of jeans, sniffed and threw them over his shoulder.

“That’s what I thought,” Isaac replied. “Thirty minutes.”

With that, Isaac walked away from the door, shaking his head. Zac shrugged and watched the door close behind him. He looked around himself. The carpet was quickly becoming an obstacle course of unwashed clothes and the coffee table had long since been lost under piles of books, cds and empty bottles.

Isaac was right. It was probably time for a shower. Zac trudged through the mess and into the bathroom where he did not even bother looking in the mirror, deciding it was best not to know what he looked like at that particular moment in time. He sang loudly to himself while he showered, hitting a few particularly high notes when a stray drop of shampoo landed in his eye. Within fifteen minutes he had finished the shower and donned a shirt and jeans that smelled clean enough to fool anyone who didn’t stand too close.

As he scoured the room for his cell phone and wallet, Zac came to a startling revelation. It was quiet. That fact itself wasn’t so startling; it was his enjoyment of the sheer peace and quiet that made Zac pause. He had woken up and not searched the space next to him for Kate’s warmth. He had walked around the small guest house without hoping to hear her voice and didn’t mind when it wasn’t there. Zac had never claimed to be particularly bright, but he felt like maybe the puzzle pieces were beginning to fit together. He could not say, however, that he was comforted by the picture forming in front of him.

****

“Hey, everybody. We are here live on WRVU 91.1 FM, the official radio station of Vanderbilt University. I’m Bobby and today I’m bringing you a flashback to the 90′s. With me in the studio today is Hanson. Welcome these guys to the show, everyone…” The DJ babbled on, but Zac found it difficult to focus. Interviews had always made him uncomfortable. As always, he had a tendency to put his foot into his mouth and he figured it was easier for everyone if he just kept quiet.

He jumped a little in his seat as he felt Taylor stab him in the side with a pen. “Oh… uh, I’m Zac, and I beat on stuff.”

“Fantastic. Now let me get this right, all of you guys are married? And you all have kids?”

Zac rolled his eyes and kept his mouth shut as Taylor and Isaac rattled off their practiced answers to that inevitable question.

The DJ, evidently named Bobby, swiveled his chair to face Zac. “Even you? You’re still pretty young, right?”

“Yep. Even me.” Zac replied tersely.

The interview continued in that fashion for several minutes; the questions were nothing out of the ordinary and Zac trusted Taylor and Isaac to answer them all better than he could even on the best of days.

“Awesome, so we’re gonna put on an old one for you guys, then how about something new from the Hanson boys? 

“What do you say guys, give the listeners a taste of what you’ve been working on,” Bobby said with fake enthusiasm, and Zac tried to keep from groaning out loud.

“Sure, that would be great,” Taylor replied, tapping his fingers against the tambourine he held in his lap.

The DJ pressed a few buttons on his console, and Zac could hear the beginning of “If Only” playing softly. He flipped another switch and pushed his microphone back. “That’s great, you guys. Play whatever you’d like, I’m sure it’ll be good.”

The boys all nodded, though Zac’s was less enthusiastic than the others. Isaac pulled his guitar out of its case and turned his head toward Zac. “How about that new song you did at the show last week? It went over pretty well, didn’t it?”

Zac shook his head, “No. I don’t want to do that one.”

He sounded like a toddler who didn’t want to take a bath and he knew it. He could see the annoyance on his brothers’ faces, but he didn’t care to elaborate; he only shook his head again and folded his arms across his chest.

Isaac rolled his eyes. “Fine, then. Taylor, what do you think?”

Taylor shrugged. “How about ‘Take Our Chances’?”

“Any complaints about that one, Zac?” Isaac raised an eyebrow.

Zac shrugged and grabbed the bongos from beside his chair. “No, it’s fine. We’ll play that one.”

As the music playing back faded out, the DJ flipped a few switches and grabbed his microphone. “Alright, that was “If Only” from Hanson. You guys might remember that one from way back in 2000. And if you’re just tuning in, we have Hanson live in the studio with us today. They’re gonna play a new song for you guys, so take it away boys.”

Zac bit his lip and tapped out the beginning of the song on his bongos, waiting for Isaac and Taylor to join in. He closed his eyes and focused on keeping the beat when his hands seemed determined to slow the song down. He could feel Isaac’s glare even without looking up, but he kept his eyes shut tight and tried to drown out every thought but the song.

“…And we’ll take our chances, getting involved.”

By the end of the song, the tension in Zac’s shoulders had almost loosened itself, and the pounding in his temples had dulled. He set the bongos down and leaned back in the chair, half-listening to the DJ’s final spiel. He put on a new playlist and flipped their microphones off, offering to let the boys hang around for a few minutes. Zac closed his eyes and contemplated using that time to catch up on his sleep.

Just as he felt the room slipping away, Taylor’s voice rang out. “Do you have any explanation for today? Any reason at all why you felt like being an asshole for the entire interview?”

Isaac spoke up before Zac had a chance. “I dunno, he just seemed like the same old Zac to me. No more of an asshole than usual.”

Zac slid his chair back to the floor with a muted thump. “I’m just tired, alright? And I told you before that I didn’t want to do that song.”

“It’s a good song, Zac. We told you that. And don’t tell me you were tired. That’s bullshit. You were hungover because apparently getting drunk by yourself is your new favorite thing to do,” Isaac replied, and Zac could tell that he was forcing his voice to be much calmer than he wanted to be.

“That song was a mistake. Let it be,” Zac replied, fumbling in his pockets for his iPod. Anything to drown his brothers out.

Taylor rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what your fucking problem is. I mean, did someone piss in your cereal or do you just like ruining interviews for everyone?”

Zac reluctantly pulled his earbuds back out and spoke slowly and softly. “No, Taylor. Of course you don’t know what my problem is. You have a fucking bulletproof marriage. Of course you don’t get it.”

“And you’re a melodramatic idiot with a temperamental wife. What’s new?” Taylor replied, shoving his chair back and standing up. He picked up his ever present coffee cup and took a swig.

“Just fuck off, Taylor.”

For once, Zac did not regret his words. He watched Taylor’s bottom lip twitch, watched the coffee cup shake and threaten to fall out of Taylor’s trembling hand.

“Fine. You want to let your marriage fall apart and ruin your life, go right ahead. But I’ll be damned if you’re dragging us down with you,” Taylor finally said. He grabbed his tambourine, shoved into his bag and strode out of the studio.

Isaac ran his hand down his face. “Why do you have to do this, Zac?”

“Do what? Exist? Have problems? Not being in a perfect fucking mood all the time? Excuse me for being such an inconvenience to you,” Zac replied, standing up.

“For God’s sake. Forget it. Forget we ever expected anything from you,” Isaac said.

“Now there’s something I can do for you.”

Zac walked out of the studio quickly, hoping to avoid Isaac chasing after him or running into Taylor in the hallway. He didn’t know where he was going, but he just wanted to be alone. It was never the comfort he wanted it to be, but it seemed easier than being in anyone’s company. He stepped out onto the front steps of the building and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He pulled out the packet of cigarettes and lighter than he had bought on a whim a few days earlier. Zac wasn’t a smoker, but it seemed like the thing to do. Just pile on all the vices he could, Zac supposed. He shuffled down the sidewalk with the cigarette in his hand, feeling utterly ridiculous. He took long, hard draws on the cigarette and tried not to wince when it hit the back of his throat. He found himself utterly consumed by the pain of it.

He saw it before he felt it, but the flash of red hair and flurry of books barely registered. Their bodies collided with a rather soft but still jarring thud. His iPod skittered across the pavement and his cigarette went flying. Zac tried to speak and failed.

Still holding the book she had been too absorbed in to see him coming, Spencer smirked.

“You’re not a very good stalker, you know.”


	7. These Chains That Hang Around Our Necks

Zac felt the blood rush to his face with a dizzying quickness. He stared at Spencer, his cheeks crimson, and willed himself to think of something witty or profound to say. The words would not come. He coughed and sputtered, regretting the cigarette.

Spencer shifted her weight from one foot to the other and back again. Her first attempt at a joke had fallen flat, but she was undeterred. “So, fancy meeting you here?”

Zac bent down to retrieve his iPod, his hands shaking as he tried to stuff it back into his pocket. He took a long deep breath but could not bring himself to look Spencer in the face before answering, “We uh… we had an interview today. A radio thing. I guess I should have known, but I didn’t even think about running into you here.”

“Literally,” Spencer replied, laughing softly.

“That too,” Zac nodded, but did not smile.

Spencer sighed and placed a hand on Zac’s arm. “Why so blue, panda bear?”

Despite the late Spring heat, Zac shivered a little, but did not shrink away from her touch. He ran a hand through his hair and said, “I don’t know. I just woke up feeling hungover and plain weird, and then Taylor just had to be a bitch to me. That’s nothing new, but I just didn’t feel like listening to his shit today. I mean, he doesn’t even know. And I just had to get away.”

Nodding slowly, Spencer commented. “And that’s why you’re shaking like a leaf and reeking of Marlboros?”

“That’s about the size of it.”

“Well, come on,” she said, gripping his arm tighter. “Let’s get some food in you and – stop me if this is too radical an idea – have an actual, friendly conversation for once.”

Zac shuffled his feet and stared at his shoes. Slowly, he looked up and replied, “I guess that’s alright. We can do that. Anything so that I don’t have to go apologize to Taylor for a while.”

“Sounds good to me. As it happens, there’s a little café just down the street. So you chose a good street to sulk on – that is, if you don’t mind vegan food.” Spencer smiled and reached for Zac’s hand out of habit, then thought better of it. Her hand hung awkwardly in the air like the physical manifestation of an unanswered question. She opened her mouth to speak, thought better of that as well, and closed it again. Finally, Spencer turned on her heel and walked briskly toward the restaurant, hopeful that Zac would follow. 

She was relieved a moment later to feel his warmth behind her and his tall shadow enveloping hers.

He leaned over her shoulder and spoke softly into her ear. “You’ll hide me from my brothers if they come looking, right?”

“I’ll do what I can,” Spencer replied and giggled softly. “I’m sure you won’t be conspicuous at all if you hide behind me.”

“That’s what I was hoping for,” Zac replied. He felt the tension in his shoulders and temples easing ever so slightly. He could not resist walking so close to Spencer; she was comforting and reassuring and he needed to be nearer to her steady presence. When the pair reached the café, he leaned over Spencer’s shoulder to push the door open.

Upon entering the restaurant, Zac shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced around nervously as they walked toward the counter. The building was small and did not afford him a corner to hide in as the coffee shop did. He tapped his fingers against the counter as they waited for their food, then followed Spencer to a table, mindlessly humming one of his unfinished songs under his breath. He leaned back against the brick wall and sighed.

Chewing a bite of her peanut butter and apple wrap, Spencer looked Zac over. He barely touched his food, only poking his fork hesitantly at the cucumbers and licking bits of hummus off the fork’s tines. She could see the sadness and fatigue in his face, dark clouds almost visible in his honey brown eyes. He seemed to shrink under her gaze, as though all the sadness he held was pressing upon him and collapsing him from the inside out. Yet she could not resist pushing buttons; she needed to ask, needed to know. She needed to pick up his pieces and put them back in the right order.

“So what does it take to make a grown man run from his brothers?” Spencer asked, leaning over the table to look Zac in the eyes. She propped her elbows up on the table and crossed her arms, trying not to stare too intently at Zac for fear her question would seem too accusing.

Zac poked at another cucumber before finally taking a bite of his wrap. He seemed to ignore Spencer’s question, until, after an agonizingly long pause, he responded. “They just know how to get to me. It’s just what brothers do.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Spencer responded, chewing a piece of apple. “Well, not really. I have a younger step-brother, but that’s different. What did your brothers – Isaac and Taylor, right? – what did they do?”

“Yeah, Ike and Tay,” Zac replied, nodding. “They know I’ve never been good at holding myself together when I’m upset. Both of them can, so they think I should be able to weather anything without it affecting interviews or performances or whatever. But I can’t.”

“Why should you have to bottle it up? Rockstars are better when they have issues,” Spencer muttered around a bit of apple.

Zac chuckled. “Maybe. But I’m hardly a rockstar.”

“You’re as close to one as I’ve ever talked to. So that’s good enough for me,” Spencer said with a half-smile. “Anyway, sounds like your brothers are just being really selfish. Maybe they don’t know what you’re going through. Have you talked to them?”

“No,” he admitted. “I’ve tried, but it’s like they just don’t want to hear it. I usually do bottle things up well so they don’t know anything is wrong, but my emotions spill out the sides after so long and we end up having these fights.”

“Well that’s no good. You should talk to them. They might be more sympathetic then,” she replied.

Zac bit his lip and stared off into the space above Spencer’s shoulder. When he spoke, the words seemed caught in his throat and forced out against their will. “It’s like things are just so much easier for Taylor. He’s been married since he was 19, and no matter what happens, they manage to keep it together. I did everything right, or I tried to, and here I am with it all falling apart around me.”

Spencer slid her hand across the table and placed it on top of Zac’s. “Sometimes it doesn’t matter if you do it right or not. Things just… don’t always work. Even when they should. You tried and that counts for something.”

Zac laughed out loud — a worn, bitter sound. “Sure, I tried. Eight years of trying and I still can’t get it right.”

“Eight years?” Spencer asked, her gray eyes wide.

He nodded. “We’ve been… Kate and I, we started dating when I was 15. Got married when I was 20. God, it sounds like forever, doesn’t it?”

Spencer nodded. “I can’t imagine being with the same person since I was 15. I’m not the same person I was even two years ago. Eight years ago might as well be a lifetime.”

Zac looked down at his hands. Spencer’s still rested against his. The gesture was gentle and nurturing and it almost reminded him of Natalie and her constant mothering of him. But he didn’t want to push Spencer away as he so often did Natalie. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe that’s the problem after all. I’m sorry, I talk about myself all the time.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m a pretty good listener, aren’t I?” Spencer smiled.

“Yeah, you are,” he replied. “But I should shut up. Let you talk for once.”

Spencer laughed, then looked down at the table. “I don’t know what to say. I’m not that interesting. Just your average nerdy grad student with a serious coffee addiction.”

“And a habit of befriending not-quite-rockstars,” Zac added, smiling around a bite of food. His smile was slight and a bit pained, just one corner of his lips curling slightly, but the sight of it soothed Spencer.

“Oh no, you are the exception to several of my rules,” she replied, feeling her lips trying to twitch into a smile as well.

Zac opened his mouth to reply and closed it again quickly. Spencer saw the clouds pass over his eyes again, saw the pain and just a hint of fear. A shadow overtook the table, and she turned her head to see the cause of it.

“Zac.”

He gulped, and his voice came out a soft, strangled sound. “Isaac.”

“Were you planning on coming back? And who is this?”

She looked up at Zac’s brother and saw the mixture of concern and frustration on his face. Forcing a bigger smile and willing her voice to be casual, she answered. “I’m Spencer. Zac and I –”

Isaac kept his eyes trained on Zac. His voice was calm and even as he spoke, “You need to leave.”

“Christ’s sake, Ike. We were just having lunch. She’s a friend,” Zac said, striving to hold his voice steady.

“You dig your own grave, Zac. Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Isaac replied, his voice still stern but tinged with brotherly love and betraying the strain of years spent trying to rein in his siblings.

“Just let it go, alright? It’s nothing. Let it go,” Zac spoke, his voice rising and the words staccato like the points of so many knives.

“Alright, whatever. You can thank me later for calming Taylor down. We’ve got to iron the kinks out of that new ballad today,” Isaac said.

Zac pushed his chair back and stood. He tried not to focus on the feeling of Spencer’s fingers slipping away from his or the heat of her eyes on his face.

Spencer watched Zac go, her fingers playing at the air where his hand had been.

_It’s nothing. Let it go._

His words shouldn’t hurt, Spencer told herself. She didn’t care what she meant to him, she insisted. But that ache, that horrible ache, beginning in the pit of her stomach and overtaking her body, begged to differ.


	8. Some Kind Of Shelter

“Argh! I quit,” Zac growled, flinging his drumsticks over his head. They clattered to rest behind him, accompanied by a thump and splash that sounded suspiciously like Taylor’s coffee cup hitting the floor.

Isaac slung his guitar strap off and sat down on the piano bench. “It’s not so bad, Zac. You’ll get it eventually. You don’t need to beat yourself up.”

“No, I like it,” Taylor called out from the floor, where he was mopping up his chai latte with a towel kept in the studio for just such an accident. “Let him beat himself up. Saves me the trouble.”

Zac scowled at the back of Taylor’s head. “If I had another drumstick, you’d be in danger right now.”

Mindlessly strumming his guitar, Isaac sighed. “Look, we’ve been working on the same song for two hours now. Let’s take a break and try something else when we come back. We just need to chill out a little.”

Taylor stood up and slung the towel over his shoulder. “Sounds good. I’m going for a smoke.”

Zac rolled his eyes as Taylor walked out of the room looking like a sulking toddler. Isaac walked over to the computer console in the corner and picked up his laptop. 

“I’m gonna go find myself a snack. Do you want anything?” Isaac asked, almost an afterthought as he stood poised at the top of the stairs.

“No, thanks,” Zac replied and watched Isaac leave the room. They were recording in a friend’s studio, built into an old downtown house. The first floor functioned an office as well as housing a kitchen and lounge suitable for relaxing mid-recording session or a small house party. The upstairs, where Zac currently sat, had been converted into the studio itself. 

Zac grabbed his notebook from the floor next to his drum set and trudged over to the piano. He flipped through the pages half-heartedly, finally landing on a page with a few scribbled lyrics and a sketch of Spencer. He had drawn it stealthily while she sat across from him grading essays. Two pencils were stuck haphazardly into her hair and she bit her bottom lip in concentration. The sketch was a decent likeness, he thought, and part of him wanted to rip it right out and throw it away. It was _proof_. Trying to ignore it, he turned to the piano and began pounding out a melody that he hoped might match his half-written lyrics. 

As Zac pounded out the chorus of his new song, Isaac’s footsteps caught his hear. Quickly, before his brother appeared, Zac stopped playing and fumbled for the notebook. He flipped it to a clean page and, picking up a pencil, scribbled down an approximation of the lyrics he had just sung.

In a moment Isaac appeared at Zac’s side, a half-eaten slice of pizza in one hand and the rest of the box propped against his hip. He sat in a lounge chair by the computer console and asked, “You want some pizza? It’s supreme, isn’t that your favorite?”

“I’m not hungry, Ike,” he replied, crossing his legs on the bench and curling up. It wasn’t a particularly comfortable position to put himself in, but he hardly cared. 

Isaac shot Zac a disapproving look before biting into his slice of pizza. With his mouth still half full, he remarked, “Seems like you never eat anymore. I don’t wanna have to hold you down a force feed you, but I’ll do it.”

“Like you could. Anyway, I was eating lunch earlier, remember? I’m just not hungry now,” Zac replied, pulling his knees up close to his chest. 

“Alright, spill it. What’s really going on with Kate? It’s obvious you’re pretty down about it,” Isaac said, leaning forward in his chair. His posture reminded Zac of a cheesy daytime talk show host and Zac wanted to laugh out loud.

“I don’t know what’s going on. That’s the problem. Things just… aren’t the same. We don’t fight, not that much anyway. But it’s like everything we say and do, especially everything I say and do in particular, annoys the other person. And now… now she’s just gone. And she’s never stayed away this long before,” Zac blurted out.

“But you still love her, right?”

“You’d think that would solve the whole problem, wouldn’t you? But it’s not that easy. I do, but… it’s like that isn’t enough now.” 

Isaac nodded, but his face betrayed that he didn’t really understand at all. “I’m sorry Tay’s giving you such a hard time about this. You know how much of an ass he can be when he just doesn’t get what people are going through.”

In a moment of perfect dramatic timing that did not pass by Zac unnoticed, Taylor chose that moment to enter the room again, a fresh coffee in hand. 

“I’m a what, when?”

“Ass. All the time,” Zac answered.

Taylor shot Zac a mock angry look, then plopped down in the floor and dove into the box of pizza. “So, what particularly ass-like thing did I do this time?”

“Do less drugs, Tay, and you won’t have these memory loss problems,” Isaac said, chuckling. 

“Funny, Ike. Real fucking funny,” Taylor said, peeling a pepperoni off and flinging it at Ike. “Seriously, is it about earlier? I’m sorry I freaked out.”

Still hugging his knees, Zac replied, “Yeah, whatever. Things are just shitty with Kate, and I don’t feel like faking a good mood all the time. Can you just let me be unhappy?”

Picking the pepperoni off his face, Isaac said, “Actually, we can’t. I think we should all go out tonight. Have a guys’ night out. Get shitfaced. All that fun stuff, you know.”

Taylor smiled. “I’m in. A night without Dora the Explorer dvds and diapers to change is my idea of fun.”

Reluctantly, Zac felt himself relaxing and yearning to concede. “Alright, I’m in. No better way to deal with this hangover than to start working on another one, right?”

“Hey, that’s a rule I live by,” Isaac chuckled.

****

“On the count of three! One… two… three…” Taylor slurred, waving around a shot glass full of tequila. 

Zac followed his brothers’ leads and tilted his head back to let the warm liquid flow down his throat. It burned for a second and he couldn’t keep himself from coughing a little. Wiping a drip of the liquor from his chin, he slammed the shot glass onto the table. 

“See? I told you guys this would be a good idea,” Isaac said, wobbling a little in his chair. Zac pushed his chair back against the wall to steady himself, watching the room spin around him. Taylor stood to dance, dragging Isaac with him. Zac closed his eyes and let himself sink into the moment, the heavy bass throb of dance music made his head pound, but the alcohol in his system dulled the effect some. It wasn’t enough. He stood shakily on his feet and walked to the bar for another drink.

After winding his way through the crowd and placing his order, Zac turned back from the bar and leaned against a nearby wall, double shot of bourbon in hand. He tipped the glass back and swallowed the liquor in one gulp. It didn’t have the same burn as the tequila, but he knew it would still get the job done.

He felt something brushed against his side, and a familiar voice called out, “Oh shit, I’m sorry.”

“Spencer…” Zac said breathlessly, feeling the warmth of her body pressed against his. The dense crowd around them kept her from moving away and Zac thought he could almost feel her heartbeat against his chest. 

“Well this is kind of awkward, isn’t it?” Spencer slurred, running her hand across Zac’s t-shirt.

Zac nodded slowly. “That’s one word for it, alright.”

“It’s okay, I like running into you,” Spencer said, giggling softly. She swayed a little on her feet and Zac instinctively put his hand on the small of her back to stop her fall.

“Good… I like running into you too,” Zac replied, his voice huskier than he expected. He held her close to him, his hand still pressed against the skin exposed by her thin dress. He thought if he could just pull her closer, it would keep him steady too. Spencer’s smiled softly, her eyelashes fluttering, and Zac took the opportunity. He leaned down and pressed his lips forcefully against hers. 

Spencer could hear her conscience, somewhere in the back of her mind, urging her to stop. But his lips were soft in spite of his forcefulness and she couldn’t find it in herself to end the kiss. She wrapped her hands around the back of his neck, feeling his soft hair under her fingers, and pushed him against the wall. Pulling away from his lips, she kissed down his jawline and along the neck of his shirt.

Zac tugged at her dress, grasping the sides of it in his hands. He pressed his lips to her ear and said the only word he could think of. 

“Please.”

The pair stumbled hand in hand out of the club and into a cab. His normal inhibitions drowned in alcohol, Zac fell on top of Spencer the moment the cab door closed behind him. He planted feverish kisses on her face and neck while his hand slid up her leg, flirting with the hem of her dress. Spencer moaned softly and nudged her hips toward his, encouraging Zac to slip his hand under her skirt and find the seam of her underwear.

It was a blessedly short drive back to their rental home and Zac was pleased to see all the lights out in the main house. He threw a twenty at the cab driver, not willing to waste time counting out the proper amount of money. Spencer tumbled out of the cab behind him and he wrapped his arm around her waist to steady both of them as they tripped down the stone path to the guest house. 

The moment he locked the door behind them, Zac’s hands were on Spencer, pulling her toward the bed. The two struggled to take off their shoes as they tumbled across the room. She pressed her lips to his and tugged on the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head as they fell onto the bed together, a tangle of limbs and hot flesh. Spencer scooted back and fumbled to pull her dress over her head, while Zac took the hint and tried to remove his jeans.

“Let me get that for you,” Spencer said, chuckling. She pulled Zac’s hands away from his jeans and replaced them with her own, unbuttoning and unzipping the garment with only slightly less trouble than he had. She slipped her hands beneath the waistband of his boxers and pushed both jeans and underwear down his hips in one motion. 

Zac wiggled the rest of the way out of his clothing and crawled closer to Spencer. He pressed his lips to her neck, gently sucking the flesh there, while his hands cupped and kneaded her breasts. He trailed his lips down her chest, his tongue dancing across her breasts, then kissing a slow, circuitous trail toward her panties. He pulled her underwear off and tossed the small lacy garment across the room. He placed several soft kisses against the newly revealed flesh before crawling back up to come face to face with her.

“Spencer, I… I don’t have a,” Zac stuttered, looking sheepish.

She kissed his cheek softly, “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m on the pill.”

He smiled and grasped Spencer’s hips, pulling her toward him. In one smooth thrust, he filled her completely. Zac lay still for a moment, adjusting to the way she felt, then slowly began building up his rhythm. Beneath him, Spencer moaned and arched her back toward him. Zac’s bangs tickled her cheek and she brushed the hair away, tangling her hand in his hair and pulling him in for a kiss. She kept her eyes closed, not wanting to see the ring hanging from his neck.

“Oh, Zac,” Spencer whispered into his ear, planting a soft kiss against his jawline as she felt herself slip over the edge.

Zac answered her with a low moan, and thrust into her one final time. He rolled over to her side and sighed contentedly, his arm curling around her torso. Spencer felt herself relax under his grasp and pressed her body against his. Already his breathing was slow and steady, and soon he snored softly into her hair.

The next thing Spencer knew was the morning light streaming in through half-closed blinds. She peeled herself from Zac’s embrace and trudged to his bathroom, picking up her scattered clothing along the way. One look in the mirror showed her indiscretion in the form of mascara and eyeshadow smeared down her cheeks. She splashed water on her face and removed as much of the mess as she could, afraid to touch a washcloth or accidentally smudge makeup on the sink and leave a trace of herself in his home. Finally content that she looked something close to presentable, she slipped back into the bedroom. Zac sat on the edge of the bed, his bottom lip occasionally twitching as though he were preparing to speak.

Spencer sat down on the bed and exhaled. “I’m at a really embarrassing loss for words right now.”

Zac nodded, running a hand through his hair. “I could say I didn’t intend for that to happen, but I think it would be pointless.”

“Yeah, I think that ship has sailed,” Spencer agreed, adding, “Captain Morgan was at the helm, if I recall.”

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Zac’s lips. He rested a hand awkwardly on Spencer’s knee, then spoke slowly, “I want you to remember this: You were not the cause of all this, all this wrongness in my life. If anything, you were the effect. I won’t regret this, either. You are my realization that things will be okay, if that makes any sense at all.”

The droning of a cell phone punctuated Zac’s statement. 

He dove into the floor to retrieve his phone and sighed. “It’s Kate.”

Spencer nodded, bending down to retrieve her purse. She could see herself out and call a cab from somewhere down the block, she supposed, and try to think of the experience as humbling. 

Zac watched Spencer walk out and listened to his ringtone repeat for the fourth time. His stomach turned and he wished he could just ignore the call, but he knew that would be even worse than answering it. With trembling hands, he accepted the call and brought the phone to his ear.

“Kate? I wasn’t expecting you to call.”

“I’m coming back.”


	9. Holding Onto Driftwood

“Zac, you _have_ to go. This isn’t really optional.”

“I happen to see things a little differently,” Zac responded, staring at a piece of buttered toast that he really didn’t want to eat. He wasn’t even sure why he had bothered to stick it in the toaster in the first place; Zac couldn’t even remember the last time he had really been hungry.

“She’s your fucking wife. Go pick her up,” Taylor replied, slamming his coffee cup down on the counter. 

He wouldn’t admit it, but he knew Taylor was right. He choked down the soggy piece of bread and tossed the plate in the sink, contemplating washing it right then just to delay the inevitable even longer. That would only be stupid, he decided, knowing how annoyed Kate would be if he were late. With that thought in mind, he grabbed his keys and headed for his car. In the morning traffic, it would be nearly a forty minute drive to the airport. He tuned the radio of his Tahoe to what sounded like a classic rock station and settled in for the drive. Despite his nervousness, the drive passed by quickly and he soon found himself sitting awkwardly in a chair outside Gate B10. 

He had only waited ten minutes or so when voice boomed over the loudspeaker, announcing that Flight 3409 from Atlanta had arrived. It would still be quite some time before Kate made her way to him, he was certain. He stared down at the linoleum floors, hands stuffed in his pockets. Zac didn’t know why Kate hadn’t just driven back, but he also knew how much she hated driving. He was halfway surprised she hadn’t insisted that he drive down to Newnan himself and pick her up. 

“Zac?”

He jumped up, Kate’s voice startling him. She stood before him, dragging a baggage trolley loaded full of suitcases and bags. Shepherd was perched on her hip, sleeping soundly. Zac wanted to grab Shep and hold him close, but anticipated the tantrum that would ensue if his son was shaken awake. Instead, he grabbed the diaper bag draped over Kate’s shoulder and flung it over his own.

“Well?” Kate asked, her face a blank slate.

Zac shuffled his feet. “Well… I missed you.”

He could think of nothing more intelligent to say. Those words were at least true, so they would have to be enough. Kate didn’t reply, but she nudged Zac in the direction of the airport’s doors and he took that as the best response he could have gotten.

They loaded Kate’s luggage into the car in silence. Zac tried to help buckle Shepherd’s car seat into place, but Kate shrugged off the help. Zac sighed and took his place in the driver’s seat. He wanted to turn the radio up to drown out the uncomfortable silence but knew that would only disturb Shepherd. So he drove in relative silence, with some soft rock ballad playing almost inaudibly. It made him want to scream. As he drove down the worn and pothole-ridden highway, Zac felt a headache growing. It was the horrible silence bearing down on him.

Finally, he could take it no longer.

With a sharp jerk of the wheel, Zac steered the Tahoe to the shoulder of the highway and put it in park. He sat there, listening to cars pass by, hoping Kate would be the first to talk.

“Zac, what the hell are you doing?” She finally hissed out, in that condescending tone that always made him feel like a teenager again.

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” he replied, picking at the leather of the steering wheel in an attempt not to look at her. 

It didn’t work. When he finally turned his face to her, Kate’s lips were frozen in a tight line and her eyes were full of annoyance. Her face said one thing: that she didn’t have time to deal with Zac’s bullshit. He wanted to be upset, but he knew he had earned that face and more. He just wasn’t ready to face up to that. Not yet. Not until she owned up to her running away.

As if she could read the question right off his face, Kate asked, “What do you want from me, Zac?”

“Answers, Kate,” Zac said. “I want some answers. I want to know why you think you can just run away and leave me hanging here while you do whatever the hell you want in Georgia.”

“I don’t have answers! That’s the whole point,” Kate replied, her voice cracking just a little, her hard edges softening almost imperceptibly. “This is just who I am. Just who we are.”

“Who we are?” Zac repeated, not liking any meaning he could find in the words.

Kate shrugged. “It’s just what we do, isn’t it? How we make this work. We talk, we fight, we stop talking, then we talk again and fight some more. Wash, rinse, repeat.”

“And that’s supposed to be okay?” Zac asked, his tone sarcastic.

“Maybe. Maybe not. But it’s the only way I know to keep this together, okay?” Kate said, then turned away from Zac and folded her arms across her chest.

And that was it. Discussion over. Kate had her last word and there would be no continuing. He slumped in his seat, his forehead pressed against the hot leather of the steering wheel. Head still down, he turned the key in the ignition, then slowly looked up, put the car in drive and eased it back onto the road.

So that’s how it would be. It didn’t surprise him, really. Kate would be Kate. Zac didn’t want to think about what would happen if she found out all the real reasons she should be so mad at Zac, so contemptuous toward their entire relationship and so ambivalent about making it work. He wanted it to work, he really truly did. It just seemed like he couldn’t. One step forward, two steps back. 

How long would he have to keep stepping before he started moving forward? Zac was afraid to know the answer to that, even though it seemed obvious enough. He had to pretend it wasn’t so. Had to pretend there was still a chance. After all, she was back. She was sulking in the passenger seat, but she was back. That was something. 

And something was better than the weeks of nothing she had made him endure, right?

****

For the rest of the ride home, they did not speak. The only sound was the soft hum of the radio and Shepherd cooing and mumbling to himself in the backseat. The situation didn’t improve any when the arrived at the house, either. 

Kate had barely deposited her suitcases in the guest house before she was rushing off to the main house to see Natalie. The two had always been inseparable, which Zac had thought was cute at first. Two best friends to date him and his best friend. It worked out perfectly. But now, the two seemed to always be gossiping and plotting; when Kate wasn’t running away from everyone, she would run to Natalie. It even had the tendency to put on a strain on things between Taylor and Zac, and that was what upset him most about it all. 

Nevertheless, he pulled Shepherd into his arms and followed behind Kate. She rapped lightly on the door before swinging it open. Natalie sat in the living room floor with Penny, several Barbie dolls and dozens of tiny outfits strewn all over the carpet around them.

“Katie!” Natalie squealed and jumped up, rushing toward her friend and hugging her tight. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

Kate mumbled something that sounded like it she agreed and was glad to be back as well, but there weren’t any particular words in it that Zac could discern. With Shepherd still in tow, Zac shuffled off to the kitchen, where Taylor stood at the counter fixing several plates of peanut butter sandwiches.

“Good to see you made it back in one piece,” Taylor said, barely glancing up from the jar of expensive all natural peanut butter, the brand he always insisted on buying. “At least, I’m assuming you didn’t just grab Shep and run, and that Kate is actually here somewhere.”

“Yeah, yeah. She’s in the living room,” Zac replied, setting Shepherd down in one of the many booster seats they owned. He thought that one might have actually been intended for Viggo or Monroe, but he wasn’t positive. A box of cheerios already sat on the table and he pulled out a handful for Shep to snack on.

Taylor walked over the table and sat down next to Zac, a peanut butter and banana sandwich in his hand. He took a large bite of the sandwich, and while still chewing it, looked at Zac and said, “So, how is she?”

“About the same as ever,” Zac said, watching Shepherd’s little fingers struggle to pick up one cheerio at a time. 

“So, a total bitch?” Taylor offered.

Zac laughed. “You said it, not me. So when Shepherd starts cussing, I’m blaming you for it.”

Taylor smiled and laughed. “But you know I’m right.”

Zac only shook his head in reply, then bent down to pick up a few cheerios that had fallen into the floor. He set the remaining pieces of cereal down on the tray in front of Shep, and stood up to throw away the fallen ones. 

When he returned to the table, Taylor looked up at him. “Do you think things will be better now?”

“I really, really have no idea,” Zac said, shaking his head and returning to the table. “It definitely doesn’t seem any better, yet. I mean, it’s never been smooth sailing. And things can’t just change over night. Why are you being so nice today, anyway?”

“What, I can’t be nice to you?” Taylor asked, clutching his chest in feigned shock.

“I’m just saying it’s a little unusual,” Zac replied.

“It hurts me that you feel that way,” Taylor said, holding his hand to his chest in mock sadness. “I don’t know, I haven’t had enough caffeine today. Can I blame it on that?”

“You can, but it’s not a good excuse.”

Taylor shoved the last bit of sandwich into his mouth and said, “Well, little bro. I’m just trying to be there for you. You know it’s only going to get worse now that the terrible two are back together.”

Zac knew that was in reference to Kate and Nat and he shivered a little at the thought of it. He knew that sometimes he overestimated how horrible they could be working on tandem, but if Taylor was remarking on it, then perhaps it wasn’t just his imagination.

“You think they’re plotting my death right now?” Zac asked. 

“Oh, probably. I bet they’re picking out just the right poison as we speak,” Taylor replied, laughing.

Zac gulped. He had made the original joke, but it now he didn’t find it very funny. He looked over at Shepherd, who was busy playing with a half-chewed cheerio. Shepherd looked up at him with big brown eyes twinkling. It only made Zac feel worse. Looking at his son’s big innocent eyes, he realized just how badly he was screwing everything up. In that moment, he felt like the absolute scum of the earth. Of course Shep couldn’t see that and was only happy to see his daddy again, but he knew it was only a matter of time before everyone else realized just how awful he truly was.


	10. What I Am To You

“Zac, do you think you can try that again? The bass just isn’t coming through like it should,” Taylor spoke into a microphone designed to carry his voice from the control room into the studio, and frowned at the soundboard in front of him. He poked and prodded a few buttons and listened to the playback, but it only served to deepen his frown.

“Can’t we just fiddle around with the recording? Does it have to be done over completely?” Zac replied, his voice just a shade away from pleading. He didn’t really mind spending the entire day in the studio, especially since Kate had gone off shopping with Natalie anyway, but the tediousness of it had always grated on his nerves.

Isaac looked up from where he sat in the corner of the control room playing with his laptop and shook his head. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea. It needs a different sound from what you’ve been doing. We’re gonna have to keep pounding away at it – pun not intended, so don’t even say it.”

“Ugh, fine. Just let me take a break first and get something to drink. Then I’ll give it another try,” Zac replied, tapping his drumsticks against his leg anxiously, hoping he would be able to set them down soon.

Taylor nodded and waved an arm in the air, which was close enough to a full concession for Zac. He tossed the drumsticks down and pulled the headphones off his shoulders, setting them down more gently than he had the drumsticks. It took all the restraint he could muster to keep from running out of the recording booth and down the stairs to the kitchen. In his hast, he nearly tripped on the last step, but he hardly cared at all. A broken ankle would have been the very least of his concerns, although he figured it might have made that bass problem a bit more difficult to overcome.

As he made his way to the fridge to retrieve a soda, Zac considered all the possible injuries he could inflict on himself to keep from having to finish this recording session. His imagination wandered, and he considered all the other injuries he might receive when Kate found out about his indiscretion. By the time he had decided on a Sierra Mist, he had imagined himself into a horrible state. Turning to sit at the table, he was surprised to see Isaac already sitting there.

“Grab another one of those for me?” Isaac asked, and although his voice was steady and even, Zac was sure that something he wouldn’t like lurked beneath the surface.

He grabbed another soda and handed it to Ike, then collapsed into the chair next to his brother. He flipped the tab on his soda and the sound seemed to fill the room. Zac wasn’t going to talk if Isaac wasn’t. He would just wait for Ike to say whatever was obviously on his mind.

“Zac…”

There it was. He knew the silence couldn’t drag on forever.

He turned to look at his brother and lifted an eyebrow. “Yes, Ike?” 

“I saw it. Her. You. It… at the club,” Isaac managed to stutter out. He was usually more eloquent than that, but those few words were enough for Zac to catch his meaning.

Zac gulped. How could he reply to that? Denying it seemed pointless. But he couldn’t explain it; there was no possible explanation that could rationalize what he had done.

“Oh. You saw… how much?”

Isaac gulped. “Enough. I saw enough. I don’t want to know if there was more. I’m going to assume there wasn’t so I can pretend I’m not one of the bad guys in this. I’m already in a horrible position here.”

“Oh, of course. How horrible for you,” Zac sneered. “I was thinking that too, while I kissed her. ‘Gee, I wonder how this will effect Ike?’ I thought to myself, just before I shoved my tongue down her throat. I’m sure she could tell I was distracted, but you know I just care so much how my fuck-ups affect you.”

Isaac slammed his fists down on the table and stood up. “Goddamn it, Zac. I’m trying to be nice to you. I’m trying to keep myself from running out of this room and calling Kate and telling her what I saw, even though I know it isn’t my place. But you damn well better tell her yourself. And don’t expect my sympathy if she leaves you.”

Zac couldn’t do much more than frown as Isaac finished his statement and walked away. He turned around after only a few steps, picked up his forgotten soda and walked away again, without so much as giving Zac another look. Still Zac sat at the table, staring down into his own soda can. What could he say? Isaac was being more than fair to him and he knew that. It was much more than he deserved. He gulped down the rest of the Sierra Mist and crushed the can in his hand. That tiny act of rage made him feel just a little bit better. 

He took his time getting up from the table and tossing the can in the garbage, but eventually he figured there was no point in delaying any longer. He would rather go back to the studio on his own than wait for his brothers to come downstairs and nag him into it. With one last look around the kitchen, as though something might be hiding in a corner that would give him reason to stay longer, he trudged back to the studio and took up his seat at the drums without so much as a single word to Taylor and Isaac.

“Glad you could rejoin us,” Taylor said, standing up from the piano and walked back to the control room. “You wanna try that one again with more bass? It just needs more oomph, you know? More body.”

Zac bit his lip and nodded. “I’ll give it my best.”

He pulled the headphones back on and picked up his drumsticks, waiting for the playback to start pumping into his ears. When it did, he let himself slip into the song, getting lost in it like he always did. Maybe Taylor had been right about the bass. Whatever it was, something just sounded and felt right. The song ended much sooner than Zac was prepared for, and soon he was listening to only the silence of the headphones. He pulled them off and looked up to see Isaac smiling and Taylor nodding reluctantly from behind the soundboard.

With a smug grin, Taylor said, “See? I knew it would sound better if we tried it again. I don’t think we’re gonna need another take on the drums, we can definitely use that one.”

Zac sighed and allowed himself a faint smile. He stood up and tossed his drumsticks down triumphantly. Then, on second thought, he picked them up again and rolled of a quick cadence. It felt good to play. He could always count on the music to make him feel better. And, judging by how absorbed Taylor and Ike seemed by whatever they were listening to, he would have at least a little pocket of time to indulge himself.

He had played his way through two or three songs when he heard the door to the attic open. Someone must have taken down the “Now Recording” sign while he was lost in his own world. With a last crash of the cymbals, Zac turned around to see Natalie and Kate standing there amid what looked like dozens of shopping bags. Ezra stood at his mother’s heels, looking thoroughly miserable. Zac held back his laugh, thinking that he would have been miserable too after a round of marathon shopping with those two. 

“Hey babe,” Taylor called out, walking out of the control room and over to Nat. He maneuvered around the shopping bags she was holding and planted a kiss on her forehead. It was an awkward, stilted move but Zac could still see the love behind it. 

Kate set down a few of her bags, and looked expectantly at Zac. “Honey, I bought a few things for you.”

She made no attempt to come to him, so Zac stood up from the drums and took a few steps toward her. Part of him wanted to embrace her and kiss her passionately. Prove to everyone that things were okay. But he couldn’t do it. He stood awkwardly in front of her with his arms folded across his chest. He tried to think of something sweet to say, but he didn’t have anything. He settled for the best smile he could manage and said, “That’s great… What did you get?”

“Oh, just a few things. A few nice pairs of jeans, since you wear them out so fast. You’re worse than the kids, you know. And a really nice jacket. I probably spent too much, but I’m sure you’ll like it,” Kate replied.

Zac tried not to scrunch up his face as he listened to her listing it all. He wasn’t much for shopping, that was true, and Kate did have good taste in clothing. But it just bugged him to be treated like her child. She had always done that, he realized. His annoyance at it was only building and building, and he felt that soon he might explode from it. Zac did his best to hold himself together, though, and nodded politely enough as she went on about all the cute little things she had bought for Shep. 

When Zac thought he could listen to no more of it, Isaac popped his head out of the control room door and said, “We’re gonna break for the day, I think. We might pick up again later, but we’ve made good progress for the afternoon.”

Zac let out a sigh and felt his forced smile become much more natural. He nodded and looked back at Kate, who was smiling back at him much more sincerely than he had expected. He raised an eyebrow, but couldn’t find the right words for the question he wanted to ask.

“That’s great news, Zacky,” Kate said. “Will you grab a few of these bags and help me back downstairs with them?”

“Sure,” Zac replied, grabbing the two largest bags. “But why bother bringing all the bags in here if you’re just carrying them back out?”

Kate rolled her eyes and started down the stairs. “Because we took a cab, remember? We’ll have to call another one soon, I suppose. But we can hang out here a little while longer, Nikki isn’t expecting us back for at least another hour…”

“And I’m sure she’s just loving her time with all those kids,” Zac replied, hefting the bags down the stairs and setting them near the front door of the studio.

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Kate replied. “I’m sure the littlest ones are napping now. And you know Penny and River love Nikki to death. They’re having a great time, we called her while we were eating lunch.”

Leave it to Kate to have an answer for everything. Zac turned back around and she was already walking out of the room, looking like she owned the place, which he thought was a bit rich given that she had only been in the studio once before. Nevertheless, he followed behind her, for lack of anything better to do. She stepped down the hallway toward the main offices, and Zac wondered what possible reason she could have for going back there.

“Kate, where are you going? These are only Rennie’s offices. We don’t need to come back here,” Zac asked, turning the corner just behind her.

Kate spun around on her heel and smiled at Zac. Her eyes twinkled and it worried him a little. 

“I haven’t seen my husband in weeks, and I want a little time alone with him. You said yourself that no one is back here, right?”

Zac bit his lip and stared at her. He was accustomed to Kate being the reserved one when it came to things physical. Her forwardness now, especially in light of their argument the day before, left him dumbfounded. 

“Katie… we shouldn’t. Not here,” Zac pleaded.

She seemed to pay his words no mind, and took a step closer to him, running her hands across Zac’s chest. With a pout, Kate said, “But Zac, it’s been weeks. I missed you. I miss you. Please at least kiss me. Is that really too much to ask?”

Zac thought about the night before, laying with his back his wife, staring at the wall unable to sleep. And now she was practically begging him. He couldn’t say no, could he? Zac sighed but stood his ground, waiting for Kate to make her next move. 

He had expected further argument from her, so it came to Zac as quite a surprise when Kate leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. Her hands pressed harder against his chest, backing him against the wall as her tongue caressed his lips and eased between them. Zac slid his hand onto her waist gently, trying to show some enthusiasm, but unable to relax. He wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much to be with her, but the encounter reminded him far too much of the one with Spencer, except with a slightly smaller crowd this time.

Soon, Kate pulled back and frowned at Zac before asking, “You’re not enjoying this, are you?”

“I’m just not comfortable doing this here, okay? I’m still at work, technically. And you should go back and check on Shep,” Zac said, sighing. He pulled his hand back from her waist and ran it through his hair.

“Fine,” Kate said, and stepped back away from him, folding her hands across her chest. “Forgive me for expecting you to be interested in me. I’m only your _wife_. I’ll see you later, okay? Nat’s cooking a big dinner for everyone.”

Zac nodded, feeling like he would only stick his foot further in his mouth if he attempted speech again. At the rate he was going, he would choke on the damn thing soon. Kate offered him a small nod, then turned on her heel and stormed back down the hallway. The sound of her heels clacking against the wooden floors seemed to echo in Zac’s ears. He turned around and slammed his head against the wall, hoping he could hit it with enough force to pass out.


	11. Your Heart On My Sleeve

It was nearing midday when Spencer finally trudged back into her apartment, having managed to walk to a little convenience store at the end of Zac’s street, where she avoided the gaze of shoppers and called a cab. Spencer considered it quite an accomplishment that she hadn’t snapped at any of the soccer moms giving her strange looks or the cab driver and his judgmental eyes. When she walked into the apartment, Abbey was napping on the couch and she took the daintiest footsteps possible to avoid waking her.

Spencer did not leave her room again until almost seven o’clock that night when she heard Abbey’s insistent knock. She didn’t want to answer, but knew there wasn’t much other choice. Stumbling her way to the door, Spencer threw on a worn out Beatles t-shirt and a pair of pajama shorts. She had managed to strip down and take a quick shower before falling into bed that afternoon, but had barely made it back to her bed before falling asleep still dripping wet.

“What?” Spencer asked curtly as she threw the door open.Abbey stood there looking a bit sheepish, holding out a plate of french fries and a grilled cheese sandwich – their usual hangover cure. She smiled up at Spencer and said, “I don’t know about you, but I feel like I’ve been run over by a Mac truck. Remind me never to get that drunk again.”

Spencer took one look at the plate full of greasy food and pushed past Abbey, nearly running to reach the bathroom. She fell to her knees in front of the toilet and coughed. She hadn’t eaten anything since the previous afternoon, so there wasn’t really much she could do but gag and heave unproductively.

Still clutching the toilet seat, Spencer heard Abbey’s footsteps padding down the hall, and moments later, into the bathroom.

“Are you alright? I mean, I know you were gone all night. I almost brought this guy I met back here and I guess –”

Spencer groaned and laid her head down against the cold toilet seat. She would worry later about how unsanitary that might have been. “Abbey? Can you please, please talk a little slower and a little less, in general?”

She was barely able to complete the question before another wave of nausea swept over her, and she again leaned her head over the toilet and gripped its sides until her knuckles turned white. Her stomach, now certainly devoid of anything that might have been lingering in it, still heaved and pitched, making Spencer shake violently against the tile floor.

“Jesus, Spence! Are you okay?” Abbey asked, sitting down on the edge of the tub, just within Spencer’s line of sight as she continued to lean over the toilet.

“I really don’t know,” Spencer replied, the words coming out in a stutter.

“You’re not – pregnant, are you? Because you really shouldn’t be drinking while you’re pregnant.”

One more tremor worked its way through Spencer’s body, followed by a shaky laugh. “God, no. I don’t think pregnancy causes this symptom so soon. Guilt and regret are more likely culprits. Also, rum.”

“Oh, honey,” Abbey drawled, placing a hand on Spencer’s still-trembling shoulder. “You didn’t.”

“I did.”

Wrapping her arms around Spencer and pulling her slowly to her feet, Abbey said, “This is highly inappropriate of me to ask, but was it at least good?”

“I don’t really think that’s relevant,” Spencer replied, willing her feet to work. She was unsteady on them, but with some effort, and Abbey’s help, she soon reached the living room. Abbey ducked back into the hallway, returning a few seconds later with the plate of food.

“Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t,” Abbey shrugged, shoving the plate into the microwave.

Spencer planted herself on the couch and pulled a blanket over her legs. It might have been May, but she was still cold. “Either way, it’s really two questions. One, was it good? Two, was it good enough that I’d do it all over again, if given the chance?”

“Right,” Abbey replied. The microwave bell rang out and moments later Abbey was holding the plate in front of Spencer’s face, a bottle of ketchup in her other hand. “So, what are the answers?”

“Yes to the first,” Spencer said, nibbling on a french fry. “And a giant ‘I-don’t-know’ to the second.”

Abbey nodded knowingly, but did not press the issue further. The two spent the rest of the evening gorging themselves on greasy food and watching reruns, studiously avoiding any further discussion of Spencer’s drunken escapades.

Just thinking of it all in terms of the word “escapade” made Spencer want to laugh. The whole thing was ridiculous, Spencer thought to herself, crunching on a potato chip. She had never considered herself a prude, but she usually had some amount of self control. There was just something about Zac that made her lose all reason. If it was attraction, it was unlike any other attraction she had ever felt.

And she didn’t like it at all.

Spencer told herself it was because she wanted to show Zac happiness. He always seemed so… empty. So in danger of cracking and just falling apart. And she wanted to put his pieces back together for him, because it seemed like he didn’t have anyone else who would. She had a feeling, though, that sleeping with him was not exactly the solution to his problems.

Around midnight, Abbey began to yawn incessantly. She gave Spencer a long hug, unaccompanied by any encouraging words – because what words could really be encouraging in Spencer’s situation? – and shuffled off to her bedroom. That left Spencer alone with a nearly empty bag of potato chips, a half-full carton of ice cream and all the reruns and infomercials that the television had to offer. She fell asleep on the couch hours later, the ice cream carton sitting empty on the floor in front of her.

The rest of the weekend progressed in roughly the same fashion. Abbey had some work-related errands to run on Sunday, because evidently Nashville hipsters did not believe in a day of rest. When she returned home from work, she spent the evening on the couch with Spencer again, sharing cartons of Chinese takeout in silence.

Spencer was barely able to muster up the energy or will to peel herself off the couch Monday morning. Only the thought of her lost paycheck gave her the boost she needed to make it to the shower. She made it out of the apartment, hair still damp and tangled, with only minutes to spare. She sympathized more than ever with all the freshmen in her class who looked like they were still recovering from their own hangovers, and she wondered if they could see hers written all over her face. She felt like everyone who saw her that day must know what she had done, even though she knew that was stupid and irrational.

Not knowing where else to go when classes were done, Spencer walked to Strange Brew. She was driven by a tiny glimmer of hope that she would see Zac there. Again, it was the irrational part of her brain talking. What could she say if she did see him? Still, she purchased her drink and sat in the usual corner, just in case.

The corner was conspicuously absent of Zac, a fact that Spencer did not find especially surprising or comforting.

She pulled out the slip of paper he had given her not too long before. She had carried it with her ever since. A tiny scrap of paper with his phone number scribbled on it. As soon as she had noticed it on the coffee shop table, she had promptly folded it up and slipped it into her wallet, buried behind credit cards, bookstore discount cards and other paraphernalia, not even pausing to read the number, lest she be tempted to call it in a moment weakness.

She hadn’t known then just how weak she could get.

Spencer barely even noticed that someone was approaching her corner until she felt the couch dip beside her. She quickly covered the slip of paper with her hand as she looked up to see who had joined her. Her heart fluttered, but was quickly let down.

“Daniel.”

She saw his eyes follow her hands as she tucked the paper back into her wallet, but he chose not to remark on that. He didn’t bother with a greeting at all, stating plainly, “I’ve been too hard on you, Spence.”

“Still master of the understatement, I see,” Spencer replied, scooting away from him instinctively. It felt too strange to be so close to him.

Undeterred, Daniel followed Spencer, scooting closer to her side even as she tried to get away from him. He placed his hand gently on her arm and said, “You can’t deny that you and me worked really well together, for a while. We had something, didn’t we? And maybe this break has been a good thing for us. For me, especially, to figure out where my head is at.”

Much as she wanted to, Spencer couldn’t argue with that. They _had_ been good together, while it had lasted. They had hardly even argued until he decided to leave Nashville, and then it all seemed to fall apart around them. She nodded slowly, not willing to totally agree with him.

“I’ve always loved you, you know?” Daniel spoke, his voice softer than Spencer could ever remember hearing it. “It’s just that I didn’t always think that was enough to make it work.”

Again, Spencer could only nod. Against her better judgment, although she was not certain she had any of that left, she could feel her resolve melting away. She had spent the year without Daniel completely alone, and the drunken night with Zac served as a painful reminder of what her life had been missing. Love, yes. But also physical comfort.

“Say something already,” Daniel said, his voice pleading.

Regaining some of her composure, Spencer asked, “What am I supposed to say to that? I don’t know what you expect from me, after everything.”

Daniel sighed, a weak, ragged sound. “Just answer this: can we give it another try?”

Spencer gulped, mostly to delay having to answer. Finally, she repeated his words. “Another try?”

“Just dinner. We’ll take it slow, okay? I’m not going to make any demands of you,” Daniel replied, his fingers tracing circles on Spencer’s arm. It made her shiver a little in spite of herself. Again she could feel the ache that Zac had woken in her. The pain of needing to be close to someone.

“I suppose we could do that,” Spencer said softly. More firmly, she added, “Just dinner.”

Daniel nodded. “Just dinner. Just you and me, figuring out where to go next. If anywhere at all. Maybe in opposite directions again. We’ll see. That’s all I’m asking for.”

Spencer sighed. “Okay. Okay, we’ll do it.”

Part of Spencer knew she was going to regret this. But she needed something, or someone. And Daniel was certainly the lesser of two evils, for once.


	12. What We Need To Be Free

Spencer smoothed her ruffled skirt for what might have been the hundredth time. She just needed something to do with her hands, something to let out all that electric, nervous energy coursing through her veins. She tried to distract herself with looking out the cab window at the businesses rolling by. Of course Daniel hadn’t offered to pick her up. That hadn’t surprised her at all. She supposed it was just as well; if she took a cab to and from this thing, she could pretend just that little bit more that it wasn’t really a date.

And she needed, more than anything, to believe that.

Sooner than she expected, the cab slowed to a stop in the fire lane and the cabbie rattled off a price that Spencer thought was far too high for such a short drive. Choosing to keep that opinion to herself, she pulled the cash from her wallet and handed it over wordlessly. The cabbie mumbled a thanks and Spencer took that as the cue to let herself out onto the street. 

Once again she smoothed her skirt and paused for a moment to collect herself. Taking deep breaths, she looked up at the building in front of her. It was one of those hip grill and bar sort of places – the kind of restaurant that Abbey and her friends at the magazine would hang out at after work. 

Finally content that she was presentable enough and not going to spill her lunch on the sidewalk, Spencer steeled herself and walked as confidently as she could through the front doors. Immediately she found herself blinking, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the restaurant’s dim lighting. When she finally did, she could see Daniel sitting at a table not far from the front of the restaurant and, not surprisingly, not very far from the bar either. She motioned to the waitress who greeted her that she would be joining him, and did her best to smile as she approached the table.

She was certain the smile had failed, but Daniel’s response looked more genuine than she could have anticipated.

Smiling up from his drink, Daniel spoke, “I already ordered drinks and starters. I hope that’s alright.”

Nodding as she seated herself, Spencer replied, “That’s fine. I guess you still remember what I like well enough.”

“Of course,” Daniel replied, somewhat softly, still smiling just enough to make Spencer nervous.

He looked as though he might have continued the thought, but a waiter appeared at the side of the table, brandishing two salad dishes. A Caesar salad – so he had remembered her favorites. Spencer wouldn’t have admitted how much it pleased her to know that. She simply forced back the smug grin she could feel creeping onto her face and took a sip of the fruity cocktail offered to her.

Without so much as a glance in her direction, Daniel closed his menu and looked up at the waiter. “I think I’ll have the paella, and I think she’ll want –”

“The vegetable pasta,” Spencer interjected, pointing to the first item she saw. She wasn’t entirely sure that was indeed what she wanted, but she felt it necessary to place her own order. At this point, Daniel was just trying to show off and she would have none of that.

The pair settled in to eat their salads in silence. Spencer could tell that had rattled Daniel, although he should have been, she reckoned, quite accustomed to her asserting herself. After a few minutes of awkwardness, Spencer decided to plunge right in.

“So, why did you move back?”

That was sure to offend. She wasn’t sure why she wanted so badly to offend him; all she knew was that nothing in her felt like playing nice with him. It wasn’t a first date. There was no need to impress or play nice.

Daniel downed a large sip of his beer, then made a show of clearing his throat before answering. “You know law school was never what I wanted to do. It just felt like the inevitable thing. But it was a bore.”

“So you just ran off? What now?” Spencer asked, raising an eyebrow. She couldn’t believe how Daniel could be so dismissive now about giving up the future he had been so adamant about before he left her.

With a casual shrug, Daniel replied. “Another bachelors? A masters in political science? Become a nutty old professor like you?”

“It must be nice to throw around that much money on a whim,” Spencer mumbled, then dove back into her salad.

“I’m trying to do what will make me happy. You ought to understand that, even if you don’t respect it,” Daniel replied, wiggling his salad fork in Spencer’s direction.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Spencer asked, even though she knew the question was unneeded.

Daniel chuckled a little. “You know it. You stayed here because your happiness was in studying literature, not being with me. Are you happy now? Are you doing what you want, even if you had to give something up for it?”

A month before, her answer would have been an emphatic yes. There would have been no second thought. Now, she couldn’t answer so readily. Her mind flashed to her last night with Zac, to the knowledge of all the wrongs she had committed with him. Happiness no longer seemed the most appropriate adjective for her life.

“I need… I need to not have this conversation with you,” Spencer stuttered.

With a self satisfied grin, Daniel replied, “I knew you wouldn’t be happy.”

“Don’t be so smug,” Spencer spat, pushing her chair back and standing up. “Didn’t I already prove my life doesn’t revolve around you? You do not define my happiness, Daniel. Now, if you don’t mind, I think I need to be less sober for this dinner.”

****

Zac groaned and watched Natalie and Kate’s retreating figures. Why couldn’t they go to the bathroom alone? No, they had to go together, and no doubt would be talking about Zac’s latest failings the entire time. It took everything in him to resist the urge to slam his head against the table. They weren’t in a particularly fancy restaurant, but he was still certain that giving himself a concussion would attract too much attention.

“Jesus,” Taylor muttered. “What’s wrong with you tonight?”

Zac looked at his brother, who was as usual tapping his fingers against the table. He felt an overwhelming desire to crush those fingers underneath his fist. He was sure he had the strength to do it…

“Zac. Earth to Zac. What the hell, man?”

Another groan. “Nothing. I’m fine. Will you stop tapping, please? My head is already pounding.”

“Sorry,” Taylor replied, slamming his hands down on the table. They twitched nervously until Taylor gave in and crossed his arms. “What’s up, though? You could at least try to enjoy this dinner, you know. It would make Kate happy if you did.”

“It’s just awkward. I don’t like being here. You know I didn’t want to come,” Zac replied.

Taylor shook his head, then picked up his beer from the table. He waved it through the air as he spoke, “Alright, whatever. I’m just saying, this would be a lot easier if you just lightened up a bit and tried to at least pretend you were having a good time.”

Zac watched the amber bottle in Taylor’s hand. By the time Taylor had pulled the bottle to his lips for a long sip, Zac had made up his mind. 

“Okay. I’ll do my best,” he replied, standing up. “I’m going to the bar.”

Zac pushed his chair back and walked away from the table before Taylor had a chance to reply. He hoped, knowing how slow Kate and Nat could be, that he would have time to get himself a nice, stiff drink from the bar. When he saw the crowd of people gathering around the large, L-shaped bar, he didn’t feel so certain about it.

With a long sigh, Zac squeezed himself into the only open spot he could see along the entire length of the bar. He couldn’t even find a stool, so he resigned himself just to lean against the cold marble. Throwing his weight against it, he sighed again. It would be a long wait before the bartender noticed him at all.

“I’m gonna need something stronger than this strawberry daiquiri crap. Rum and coke, please?” A loud, all too familiar voice called out to Zac’s left.

Spencer sighed and ran her hand through her hair as she waited for the bartender to return with her drink. Someone had just squeezed in next to her and it gave her barely enough room for comfort. Instinctively, she turned to look at this new arrival.

“You know, this city is far too large for us to keep running into each other like this,” Spencer said, forcing herself to laugh softly in the hopes that her fear wouldn’t show.

For a moment, Zac could do nothing but stare at the woman in front of him. He knew he had recognized her voice, but had hoped that his mind was just playing a trick on him, that it was just some weird psychic manifestation of his guilty conscience. As he stared at her, trembling almost imperceptibly in front of him, he knew it hadn’t been any sort of trick.

“I guess it must be just dumb luck,” Zac replied, then regretted it. That wasn’t what he meant. What _had_ he meant? He didn’t want to answer that, not even just in his own mind.

“Must be, I tend to have a ton of that…” Spencer mumbled, trailing off as she saw the bartender heading her way, a large glass in hand. 

She handed a few wadded bills to him, making sure to slip another in the tip jar. With her drink in hand, she looked back up at Zac. “Umm, I should go. I’m here with… well, anyway. I should go.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Zac replied, his throat suddenly going dry. He motioned to the bartender and called out, “Heineken, please?”

The bartender nodded and Zac turned back to Spencer again. He cleared his throat, but it did nothing to rid it of that horrible lump and the growing nausea. “Look, I’m… I’m sorry. But even if I could, I wouldn’t take back what happened.”

Spencer stared into the dark depths of her glass and nodded. “I guess that’s one way of looking at things…”

“It is. It’s the way I’m choosing, at least,” Zac replied. “Just please, please don’t let that be the end for us. Don’t let that be it.”

Spencer could see the glass shaking in her hand. Slowly, she lifted her head and looked Zac in the eyes. “I’m sorry, Zac… I can’t. I don’t know if it’s the end or not, but it should be.”

She turned her back to him, walking away before she could see the look on his face or hear his reply. She had to get away from him. Going back to Daniel didn’t seem like the best option, but now she was resolved to at least get through that date. Someday, she thought, she’d have something to run to instead of from.


	13. You Will Carry On

The date was not, altogether, the torture Spencer had expected it to be. Seeing Zac had shook her, but she steeled herself to face Daniel with confidence. With her drink in hand, she returned to their table and plastered on her best fake smile. Both she and Daniel did their best to skirt the sensitive issues that neither of them really wanted to talk about. Spencer kept sipping at a series of drinks, enjoying the way it made her smile come easier and more naturally.

As the date progressed, she felt herself actually becoming more at ease with him. She could almost remember how good things had been once. She and Daniel had been good once, hadn’t they? Maybe it was just the wrong time for them. Maybe the time apart was exactly what they had needed. She watched with amusement as he told a story she was certain she had heard from him before, his eyes sparkling as he became more and more engrossed in his own jokes. Spencer couldn’t help but laugh in spite of herself.

Still, it didn’t feel right. They were here, trying to get back something that just couldn’t be the same again.

But maybe it didn’t need to be the same, Spencer thought. It could still be something, couldn’t it? Just… something else this time.

By the end of the night, Spencer could hardly remember her former trepidation. She didn’t know if it was just the alcohol or the ghost of her former feelings for Daniel. She wasn’t sure she cared to know which it was.

When she called her cab at the end of the night, she did not even question that Daniel would be coming with her. He slipped his arm discretely around her waist as they stood on the sidewalk waiting for the cab to pull up. It felt strange. Like slipping back into an old, familiar dress that didn’t fit quite as you remembered. Still, she leaned her head against his shoulder instinctively, remembering a time when she would have wanted to be nowhere else in the world.

The two stayed close all the way to her apartment door. Spencer pulled away from Daniel’s side only to fumble through her purse for the key. When she looked back up at him, Daniel was leaning against the wall with a self-satisfied smile on his face. She wanted to slap it right off.

“Please,” Spencer said. “Don’t make this worse than it has to be.”

Daniel stepped forward and ran a hand lazily down Spencer’s arm. “I don’t want to make it bad at all. I know I’ve been… difficult. I only want back what we had.”

Spencer shook her head, trying to ignore the chills his touch had given her. “We can’t just turn back time. Why don’t you get that?”

“If not what we had, why not something new?” Daniel asked. “Why does it have to be nothing?”

“It will never be nothing,” Spencer whispered.

There was more she wanted to say, but she was certain she couldn’t have articulated it well enough. It didn’t matter anyway, because Daniel took one confident step forward and closed the space between them, his lips moving against Spencer’s in an old, familiar dance. She wanted to pull away from him, but it felt too comfortable in his arms. It felt safer, easier than anything else she could have done.

The kiss seemed to linger on, proof that neither of them wanted the moment to end. When Daniel finally pulled away, Spencer turned around and unlocked the door, leaving it wide open behind her. She did not turn around to see if Daniel followed her. There was no doubt in her mind that he would.

The door closed with a soft click, and Spencer felt Daniel’s arms creeping around her waist from behind. She crossed her arms over his and together they walked to the bedroom. Spencer was afraid to say a single word, and she prayed Daniel would keep his mouth shut as well. All it would take was one hard word to ruin whatever it was they were building.

She pulled away from Daniel and kept her back to him as she slipped out of her dress and into a soft old t-shirt. Daniel’s eyes were no doubt following her every move, but she tried not to think about that. When she turned back around, she saw that he had taken off his shoes and one of his shirts, revealing the white tank below it.

With a sigh, she sat down on the edge of her bed and curled her legs up under her. She wanted to curl up entirely and sink in on herself. Anything to get away. But that just wasn’t possible. Daniel slid onto the bed next to her and she pressed her index finger to his lips before he could say a word.

Instead of protesting, he pulled her down onto the bed, and pressed his lips to her neck. Spencer closed her eyes tightly and let her body relax into Daniel’s grip. Their kisses began to feel like searching. Spencer was certain, however, that whatever she sought was not to be found with him. 

As his fingers traced invisible patterns across Spencer’s back, she whispered against his neck, “Danny, I have class tomorrow… I need – I can’t…”

He nodded his head slightly, and Spencer took that as confirmation that he understood. She turned her back to him and curled against his body, falling back into a comfortable routine. Daniel’s arms wrapped around her and she clasped his hands to her. With her eyes closed tight, Spencer counted all the reasons why she shouldn’t be in bed with this boy. 

When she woke in the morning, the bed was empty except for her own body. The summer heat was already setting in, even so early in the morning, and her skin stuck the sheets. She was glad to see that Daniel was already gone. It saved her the trouble of an awkward morning.

She stumbled through her day as best she could. It was the last week of classes for her freshmen, which meant several days of watching them squirm and sweat as they took exams they were no doubt unprepared for. Her own final projects were coming due as well, which seemed to be just another trouble piling up. Spencer packed her laptop and several textbooks into her biggest handbag, intent on getting some of her own work done while her students wrote their exams.

 _At least being so busy will keep my mind off anything else,_ Spencer thought to herself as she situated herself at the desk for her second class of the day. 

Halfway through the two hour exam session, Spencer heard the tell-tale buzzing of her cell phone. She discretely slipped it out of her purse, hoping none of the students would notice her actions. The screen showed Daniel’s number. She quickly pressed the red button and shoved the phone back into her purse. Glancing up, she saw with relief that all the students’ heads were still down, staring intently at their desks.

The rest of the class passed by quickly. Most of the students completed their exams on time, and she was able to put the finishing touches on the most recent draft of her thesis. As soon as the last student had handed in their exam, she packed her things up and walked across campus to make a printout of the draft that she would turn in the next day. Along the way, her phone rang twice more. Both times the screen displayed Daniel’s name.

Spencer could not find the nerve to answer either call.

On her walk home, he called again. It took every ounce of her willpower not to launch the phone into oncoming traffic.

Her phone stayed silent all the way through dinner. Still, as she sat on the couch with her plate of spaghetti in hand, her eyes kept flitting to where her phone sat on the coffee table, as if at any second it might attack. Just as she was closing her leftovers up in plastic containers and storing them in the fridge, her phone sang out its annoying ringtone.

She knew who it would be before she even saw the screen.

“Daniel.”

For a moment there was silence on the other end. Then softly came Daniel’s voice. “Spencer, I… look, about last night. About the last few weeks. I know I’ve been awful.”

“There’s an understatement,” Spencer said. 

“I know, I know,” Daniel replied, coughing a little before continuing, “But it’s all because I… well, I guess I still love you. No, I know I do. And I don’t know how to deal with that.” 

Spencer sank to the couch. She felt all the strength leave her body and she struggled to keep her hand holding onto the phone.

“What the hell am I supposed to say to that?” She managed to gasp out.

“I just thought that you –”

“I don’t,” Spencer cut him off. “I don’t, Daniel. I can’t love you. Not the way I used to.”

The hesitation in his voice was obvious. “So that’s it for us?”

“I guess it is.”

Another long silence.

“Well. That’s good to know,” Daniel said quietly. Spencer thought she could actually hear some sadness in his voice, and it gave her pause. She wanted to find the words to tell him how much she truly did regret not being able to mend their relationship. 

But she couldn’t. Her mouth was dry and empty of any words that might make things better.

“I should let you go, then,” Daniel finally spoke.

Before Spencer could protest, the line went dead.

The phone slipped from her hand, landing on the carpeted floor with a soft thud. As Spencer sank farther into the comfort of her couch, she felt tears forming in the corners of her eyes. That only served to upset her more. There was no need to be crying over the inevitable. This thing with Daniel had to end. There had to be finality, she told herself. This was it.

Still, it unnerved her somehow. She stood slowly and stumbled to the kitchen. Her first instinct was to pour herself a tall, stiff drink. But that coping mechanism had her feeling like alcoholic lately. Instead, she poured a glass of the iced tea that Abbey had made the day before. Feeling her resolve melt away, she added a healthy amount of Southern Comfort to the glass and gave it a stir. 

She grabbed her bag off the couch, and headed to the balcony. The fresh air was exactly what she needed to clear her head. On second thought, she turned around and retrieved her cell phone and purse from the floor. Swinging the balcony door open, Spencer let out a long sigh. It was still warm out, but it felt nice. This was definitely what she needed.

The sky had gone all orange and yellow, and the world was illuminated in the evening light, the colors of everything magnified. Spencer collapsed into a rusted metal chair that might have once been red. In her left hand she held the worn slip of paper Zac had left her with before _that night_. She crumpled the paper up, then smoothed it out against the bare freckled skin of her thigh. She folded it in a tiny paper airplane and contemplated letting it sail down onto the street below. Unfolding it again with care, being extra gentle around the delicate creases, she let it fall to her lap. 

Clutching her drink in one hand, she picked her cell phone up with the other and took care to dial all the numbers correctly. It was a moment of weakness, Spencer told herself. She just needed something to forget. Something that she knew would feel better than Daniel.

After the third ring, a soft, familiar voice came on the line. “Hello?”

“Umm, is this Zac?”

“Yeah. Is, uh… Is this…” He mumbled and stuttered, and Spencer could hear the sound of movement on the other line, followed by the slam of a door.

“It’s Spencer,” she replied. “And I’m probably more shocked than you are that I’m actually calling.”

“I knew it was a long shot,” Zac said. “Even if you did… I didn’t expect it so soon.”

“I just – well, here I am. That’s all I can say for that,” Spencer replied, knowing that it told him nothing. Again, words failed her. She didn’t want to tell him everything – didn’t even want to know it all herself. She just wanted to numb the wound that Daniel had reopened, and this was all she knew that might help it. With a long, deep breath for courage, she forged ahead.

“Do you think… do you think I can see you again?”


	14. We’ve Only Surrendered

Zac stared dumbly at his phone, holding it out in his hand like it were something dangerous that might jump up and bite him at any moment. He truly hadn’t expected her to call. He didn’t know why he had given her his number in the first place or pleaded with her to give him more time. It was all so stupid and wrong. 

He had been on his way to the kitchen to refill Shepherd’s sippy cup when his phone began to ring and he quickly detoured into the bathroom. With a long sigh, he unlocked the bathroom door and swung it open, bringing him face to face with Isaac.

“Oh, there you are,” Isaac said, his eyes flitting down to the phone still in Zac’s hand. “Wondered why you ran off.”

Zac froze on the spot and stared down at his phone, as though it might somehow give him away. That was dumb, he knew. Finally, he looked up at Isaac and tried not to let his tension show. “I just had to take a phone call.”

“In the bathroom.”

“Yes, in the bathroom,” Zac replied, shoving past his brother and continuing on down the hallway.

From behind him, Zac heard Isaac call out, “You really think anyone is going to buy that? You’re pathetic.”

Zac spun around, his face incredulous. “What, you want to give me some advice on how to be a better cheater?”

“No, I want to warn you when you’re about to get caught for it,” Ike replied, then quickly threw his hand up in the air. “Not warn you so that you can keep hiding. I’m sick of knowing this and having to keep quiet. But I can guarantee that as long as you act so damn guilty, this won’t stay your little secret.”

Taking a step closer to his brother, Zac lowered his voice. “Excuse me for acting damn guilty when that’s exactly what I am. You think I’m trying to get away with this like it’s some game? I’ve turned my life into this giant clusterfuck and I don’t even know why, but it just keeps snowballing and I just keep making it worse.”

Isaac nibbled on his bottom lip and stared at his brother as though he were deep in contemplation. Zac could see that Ike’s resolve was crumbling and he was feeling some sympathy for his brother’s self-induced plight.

“Look, you’re probably making some of the biggest mistakes you can possibly make,” Isaac began. “But I think you know that. Just… if you can find it in yourself to not be a complete idiot, you better do it so you can fix this. If that’s even possible.”

Zac nodded. He knew Isaac was right, and still being far more fair than he deserved. Shoving his phone in his pocket finally, he turned around and walked on to the kitchen. Shepherd’s sippy cup still sat abandoned on the countertop. He pulled a carton of juice from the refrigerator and poured it into the cup. Just as he was closing the fridge door, he felt a set of arms wrap around his waist and the weight of a body pressed against his back.

“Kate…”

“Yes, Zac?” She replied, her voice soft. He could almost feel her breathe through his shirt as she nuzzled her face against him.

“Nothing, you just surprised me,” Zac replied, wiggling somewhat free of her grip and spinning around.

When he saw his wife’s face, it shook him. Her eyes were not as empty as he supposed he always pictured her. He couldn’t say for sure that she looked as though she were in love, but he thought it was closest he had seen in a long time. Before he could speak again, Kate had pressed her lips to his. 

He tried to relax into the kiss. He truly did. 

It was familiar territory. He couldn’t have pinpointed the exact point in time when kissing her had stopped feeling new every time. This was a dance he knew all the moves to and it had grown old. His hands instinctively set down the cup and reached up to caress Kate’s face. He matched her kisses with as much passion as he could find, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing stirred in him. 

When Kate’s fingertips slipped under his shirt to caress his stomach, he could not help but tense noticeably. Kate pulled back and looked at him in frustration.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Zac backed up into the fridge, gaping. “Me? Really, Kate.”

“Yes, you.” Kate replied, poking his chest. “You could at least act remotely interested in your own wife.”

“I’m not having this conversation,” he replied, squeezing past her before she had a chance to stop him. He walked into the living room where Isaac sat watching television as Shepherd and Monroe sat giggling amongst themselves in a playpen. Zac kept tight lipped as he took the juice to his son and sat on the floor next to him. He noticed Isaac’s raised eyebrow and was thankful that it wasn’t accompanied by a speech.

“Zac.”

Kate stood against the arch that separated the kitchen and living room, arms crossed tightly in front of her chest. Zac looked at her, then down at Shepherd who sat unaware, awkwardly clutching his Transformers cup and smiling. Isaac was staring intently at the television, no doubt a pretense to keep front intruding on a fight that wasn’t his.

With reluctance, and one last look at Shepherd, Zac stood and walked over to Kate. He stood in front of her, pulling himself up to his full height. It was a showdown of sorts. He couldn’t stand to back down anymore. Not when she kept asking him questions she ought to know the answer to, and ought to be giving her own answers to.

She ended the staring contest first, grasping Zac’s arm tightly and pulling him into the kitchen. Once they were safely out of Isaac’s hearing, she released him with nearly enough force to send him tumbling backwards. 

“Do you want to answer me now, please?” Kate asked, her eyes imploring. Once again she crossed her arms tightly, and Zac thought it almost looked as if she were hugging herself.

Zac groaned. “Honestly, you think it’s easy for me to just accept it when you keep running off. And then you come back and I’m supposed to just act like you were never gone?”

“I just wanted,” Kate began, then paused. It seemed to Zac that she was reconsidering her words, but she forged on. “I just wanted you to act like you want to be married to me. It hardly seems like you want to touch me at all. You practically cringe every time I get near you.”

He couldn’t help the laugh that came tumbling out of his mouth. “I’d like that, too. I’d like to feel like my own wife is happy being that. But I don’t, Kate. So excuse me if I’m not exactly itching to make babies as soon as you finally come back to me.”

“Is that it, then? This is completely my fault, and you’ve always been perfect?” Kate asked, her voice going up an octave and closing in on shrill.

Zac kept his eyes on the floor when he replied. “No, I didn’t say that. I’ve done my share of fucking this up, but I’m not running away like you. I’ve at least put in an effort.”

“Finally he admits he isn’t perfect,” Kate said and Zac could hear her sneer without even looking up.

“I never said I was perfect,” he replied, then softer, “Never.”

“Oh, but you certainly acted like it.”

‘Maybe I did,” Zac replied, feeling his resolve to stand his ground giving way. “Maybe I did, okay? But I was wrong. I’ve been wrong a lot and I’m sorry, but I’m trying.”

“I don’t know – I don’t know how much more of your trying I can put up with,” Kate replied, her voice cracking at the end. Zac thought he even saw tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.

“Is that it then? I’ve done all the trying and you are gonna give up without any of your own?” 

Kate shook her head, her face flashing between sadness and anger. “My trying doesn’t look like yours, okay? You keep doing… I don’t even know. The same old thing, just being you. And I keep trying to get the space and I need, and take the time I need, but it isn’t enough.”

“I’m not enough,” Zac corrected. He blinked a few times to hold back the tears he could feel.

“Maybe I’m not enough either,” Kate replied. 

“So that’s it? That’s how this ends?” Zac asked. It felt strange. Maybe it had to happen, but this didn’t feel like how it was supposed to.

Kate took a few steps forward, stopping at a safe distance in front of Zac, not quite close enough to touch. “Maybe. I’m gonna… I’ll stay here tonight, alright? In the main house. And maybe until we go back to Tulsa. It’s only what, two weeks? Then we’ll figure the rest out.”

Zac nodded. “Okay. Okay, that’s what we’ll do.”

For a moment, the two stood staring each other down. Part of Zac did want to reach out and kiss her, to remember how it felt. But he knew it would still feel like something was missing. It wouldn’t excite him the way…

Spencer. 

Another part of Zac felt so much guilt. Every second it felt like the truth about her might come tumbling out and he didn’t know how Kate hadn’t already found out. It felt like he was getting away with something he didn’t deserve to get away with. That was what made it feel so horrible, he thought. It shouldn’t have been so easy to pull off such a horrible crime.

Zac watched Kate’s retreating figure, no doubt off to tell his brothers and their wives about her plan to occupy the couch. He always despised her need to tell everyone everything. It seemed that every little thing always became a huge, insurmountable problem in their relationship, and everyone who would sit still long enough had to hear about it. The idea of sleeping by himself while she slept on the couch would be even worse than the weeks without her. Zac didn’t even want to stay in the damn guest house anymore, knowing that Kate was just a few yards away, sleeping peacefully on a pull-out sofa.

As soon as his wife was out of sight, Zac pulled out his phone and typed out a quick text. He was certain it was just one mistake on top of all the others, but he couldn’t stop himself. He hesitated for a moment before looking up the number Spencer had called him from, and sending the message her way. It was short and to the point; just a time and an address.

He plodded around the house for a few more minutes, trying not to watch as Kate carried over her belongings, quickly thrown back into one of her suitcases. He knew she wasn’t bringing everything, and that was the only thing that gave him hope that perhaps this wasn’t the end. Maybe she would come back to him before they had to pack up and go back home.

While Kate and Natalie struggled to set up the fold out sofa, Zac slipped by them and out the door, on his way to the studio.


	15. When There’s Nothing To Give

Zac couldn’t remember how long he had sat at the piano. He pounded away at the keys, his fingers tracing melodies he almost recognized and others that just seemed to pour from him without a thought. At his last count, he had probably composed ten separate songs but hadn’t written down a single note. He just wanted to sit on that bench and not move until it was all out of him. He tried so hard to bottle up his emotions, only allowing them to occasionally seep out into his music. Now he felt himself falling apart, a delicate collapse that started on the inside and continued outward until he began to shake and a small sob overtook him.

Within minutes the tears had obscured his vision so that the piano looked to Zac like a giant black and white blur. He grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up to wipe his eyes, then slammed his head down on the keys, delighting in the discordant sound that his forehead produced.

A faint knock from the door downstairs made him jump, his hands falling down on the keys to create another interesting combination of notes. He looked down at his watch, and realized he had been in the studio for nearly an hour and it was nearing midnight. Zac stood to answer the door, hoping he was right about who it was.

He trudged down the stairs and tried to look through the peephole. It had rusted over and he could see nothing but a black spot that might have been the night sky. With a sigh, he turned the nob and flung the door open.

“Hi,” Spencer said, with a small, sheepish wave. Zac could see the tracks of tears on her cheeks. He knew it was best not to ask and for once he managed to hold his tongue.

Spencer felt herself waver slightly when she finally came face to face with him. She knew, with everything in her, that this was the wrong choice. She also knew there was no right choice to be made. Still, this is where she had found herself, standing unsteady on the doorstep of some recording studio, with Zac looming over her.

Awkwardly, Zac moved out of Spencer’s way and motioned for her to come in. His throat had gone dry and he could not think of the right words to say anyway. As much as he had wanted this, Zac had no idea what to do with her actually there in front of him. 

“I, um — can we sit down somewhere?” Spencer asked, rocking back and forth on her heels.

Zac nodded. “Yeah, yeah we can. Of course. Do you want a drink or anything?”

Spencer shook her head, although she really wanted to say yes. A drink would have been fantastic, but she knew that she still had one more exam to give the next afternoon that would require her to not be hungover.

“Okay, then. Well…” Zac trailed off, timidly reaching out to grasp Spencer’s hand and lead her up the stairs. He supposed it was the most private part of the studio, and the only portion where he could actually lock the doors in case anyone else came by. Not that he was expecting anyone, least of all Kate, to come looking for him, but he still felt the need for some precaution.

When they reached the attic studio, Zac closed the door gently and turned the lock as quietly as he could. He suddenly felt self conscious about the entire affair, and didn’t want to give Spencer the wrong idea. Then again, he didn’t know what the right idea was. He liked to think that, given the chance, he could be smooth and seductive, but he was certain he hadn’t been during their drunken encounter. Sober, he found himself with even less of a clue how to act in this sort of situation.

Spencer wandered around the studio of her own accord, taking in the new surroundings. Zac watched with amusement as her eyes widened at all the new sights. She paused to run her hand along the top of the antique piano, finally giving Zac an opportunity to make conversation.

“Do you play?” he asked, taking a few short strides to close the distance between them.

Spencer spun around to look at him. “Oh, no. Not at all. Music is my roommate Abbey’s thing, not mine.”

“Oh? What does she play?” Zac replied, taking a seat on the piano bench and motioning Spencer to join him.

“A little of everything,” Spencer replied, seating herself just close enough to feel Zac’s body heat. “Piano, guitar, flute. Not professionally. She writes about music and things, though. In fact, she wrote a review of your concert…”

Zac tapped at the piano keys absentmindedly, his eyes fixed on Spencer. “Really? The one you were at? I hopes she had something nice to say about it. It wasn’t one of my… finer moments.”

“I can’t say that I have a basis for comparison, but I enjoyed… the performance,” Spencer replied with a wry smile.

Zac grinned. “Is _that_ the performance you enjoyed?”

“Oh, the encore was definitely better,” Spencer replied, with a little wiggle of her eyebrows. She could play this game as well as he could.

Zac felt himself blush a little at that. He might have known that flirting so much wouldn’t come easily to him. He turned his attention to the piano then, and began playing in earnest, plucking out the melody to one of his newest songs.

“We’re horrible people, you know,” Zac muttered, still not looking up.

“Maybe. Maybe we are,” Spencer replied, running her hand up the length of his arm and feeling the muscles in it tensing as he played. “But I can’t say that I think that’s enough reason to stop.”

“Isn’t it? My wife is sleeping on the couch tonight and here I am with you,” Zac admitted. 

Tapping her fingers against his arm in a pattern she thought resembled his song, Spencer asked, “Then why am I here? Why ask me here when you know better than I do how wrong it is?”

Abruptly, Zac stopped playing and turned his head back to Spencer. He stared at her a moment before finally letting the words tumble out. “Because somehow, right now, this makes more sense than trying to be with her, than trying to find a way to make things okay with her again. Because this makes me happier, okay?”

Spencer nodded and found herself admitting, “I just turned my ex down when he tried to get back together.”

Zac inched closer to Spencer, feeling the warmth of her skin through her thin dress. He ran his hands up her arms, slipping his fingers just inside the sleeves of her cardigan. “Guess it isn’t just me who likes to make the worst possible choices.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Spencer replied, taking the initiative to unbutton the cardigan and shrug it off. “You might not say that if you knew… well, if you just knew.”

Zac nodded, now running his hands up Spencer’s bare arms, letting them come to rest at the base of her neck. Staring intently into her eyes, he replied, “I think I know exactly what you mean.”

Rather than speak, Spencer leaned forward to close the small gap between them. Zac tangled his hands in her hair as he returned the kiss. He strained to pull her closer to him, as close as possible, until it felt like he could no longer breathe. 

He pulled away from the kiss and pressed his face to her cheek, his voice muffled when he spoke, “Maybe it’s not so wrong to do what I want. Just to be a little goddamn selfish for once.”

Spencer sighed, running her hand up Zac’s back. She wished his words would stop echoing her own feelings so exactly. “Just let it be what it is. Don’t think so much.”

Nodding, Zac grasped Spencer tightly and eased her into the floor next to the piano. Spencer slipped off her sandals and curled her legs around Zac’s, tangling their bodies together. With this bit of encouragement, Zac pressed his lips to her neck and trailed kisses along the neckline of her dress, while his fingers danced up her legs. 

Spencer moaned, arching her back slightly against the cold, hard floor. “Zac, can we move somewhere…”

Without a word, Zac scooped Spencer up into his arms and walked them to the couch. She hardly dared to admit it to herself, but the feel of it, his arms so tight around her, was more perfect that she wanted it to be. Gently, he placed her on the studio’s couch – a bit scratchy, but still more forgiving than the floor. 

Zac did not waste a moment before resuming his exploration of Spencer’s body. Now able to clearly feel every inch, he wanted to commit it all to memory. He wanted to remember every tremble, every sigh, the feel of her hands tugging his clothes from his body. It all filled him with an excitement that he could compare to nothing in his memory.

Once Spencer had managed to strip Zac of all his clothes, he found himself feeling much less ashamed than he anticipated. His cheeks flushed a little, he was sure, but everything about the moment still felt more right than it ought to. Feeling encouraged, he slid her dress over her head slowly, taking time to touch each new bit of skin revealed to him. 

Spencer covered Zac’s hands with her own, helping him to remove the last few garments between them. With every inch finally revealed, the two lay in silence, breathing heavily. The room was just warm enough to raise a sweat on their skin as they pressed their bodies close together. Softly, slowly, Zac eased himself into Spencer. He feared that, somehow, too much movement might ruin the moment.

Wrapping her arms and legs around Zac, pulling their bodies even more together, Spencer moaned. It was partly to encourage him and partly because she wasn’t sure she could manage intelligible speech at the moment anyway.

Zac ran his hands up Spencer’s legs, across her hips and stomach. He fought the natural urge to close his eyes as the pleasure built. Closing his eyes would be a denial that he wanted to be right there, right then, with her. He wanted to see her face, to watch as she arched her back toward him and her lips parted slightly. 

In the end, he could not fight it. His eyelids fluttered shut and he buried his face in her hair, a flurry of whispered curse words leaving his mouth. Spencer pressed her lips to the side of his face as she slowly untangled her limbs from his, but made no move to fully end their embrace. Zac was the first to move, leaning over the side of the couch to retrieve his underwear.

Spencer watched as Zac began to redress himself and smiled. “I’ll have to let Abbey know that you’re just as good at repeat performances. Just in case she has to write a follow up article, you know.”

Zac laughed, handing Spencer her underwear. “I am a professional, you know.”

“I think you could be,” Spencer admitted, slipping back into her clothes.

His shirt and boxers replaced, Zac slid back down onto the couch, clutching Spencer tightly against him. He bit his lip slightly, and brushed a strand of hair from his eyes before he spoke. “I highly doubt that, you know. I’m not… well, it’s not like I’ve done anything like this before.”

“I guess if you married so young, that’s not really surprising,” Spencer said softly. It felt awkward to discuss his history and marriage so frankly when their bodies were still covered with sweat and the evidence of what had just transpired between them.

Sensing her discomfort, Zac kissed Spencer’s cheek and said, “Let’s just say, you’re one of a very short list.”

“Then I suppose I should be honored that I made the cut,” Spencer replied.

“I wouldn’t mind at all if you saw it that way,” Zac whispered, pressing his face into Spencer’s hair again and sighing.

Before long, Spencer could hear Zac’s breathing become steadier and louder, a sure sign that he had fallen asleep. Her own eyelids felt heavy and sleep threatened to take over her body, but she knew it was unwise to spend the night. Carefully, she pried herself from his grip and retrieved the rest of her clothing from the floor. 

Shoes and purse in hand, she turned once more to look at the sleeping boy on the couch. He had yet to notice her absence, but she was certain he would soon. She knew, without a doubt, that she would be unable to refuse him when he woke. It was much easier to take her leave while he slept. Turning her back to him, Spencer opened the door as silently as she could and tiptoed down the stairs. Each step was a battle and it seemed an eternity had passed when she finally reached the safety of the sidewalk. She let out a sigh and began the long walk home.


	16. No Rest For These Tired Eyes

Laughing voices and loud footsteps woke Zac the next morning. He was quickly aware of the stiffness in his back, and it took him a moment to realize it was due to his position on the couch. The overhead light in the room was still on from the night before and half his clothes still lay strewn around. With a groan, he stretched and tried to find a position that would ease the pain in his back.

Before he could fall back asleep, he heard the door swing open, but did not look up to see who it was. A few seconds later, something landed on his stomach. With one eye open, he saw the paper bag in his lap, then looked up to see Isaac walking away from the couch and Taylor already taking up his spot at the keyboard. 

“There’s a couple hamburgers in there and some fries,” Isaac called out without turning to face Zac. “You know, you would have gotten a better night’s sleep if you’d stayed home.”

“As long as you avoided the sleepover party in the main house,” Taylor added, flipping the keyboard on and testing out a few notes.

Zac raised himself to something of a seated position and reached his hand into the greasy bag, prepared to eat whatever he found. “How did you guys know I was here?”

“You weren’t in the guest house, so we just figured,” Isaac replied, sipping from a large soda. Lowering his voice, he added, “Besides, I don’t know where your little redhead lives, so I couldn’t very well check there.”

Zac’s immediate reaction was to look at Taylor, who was too occupied with the keyboard to have noticed Isaac’s comment. Once Zac was certain of that, he glared at his oldest brother. He pulled a burger out of the bag and unwrapped it, then looked up to see that Ike’s eyes were still on him, disapproving.

“Can you just leave me alone about all this? Please?”

Isaac frowned. “No, Zac. I can’t. I’m trying to help you the best I can, alright? I just don’t get it. Aren’t you too young for a midlife crisis?”

“Is that you what you think this is?” Zac asked, biting into the hamburger to quiet himself for a moment. “This isn’t… that’s not what is happening here, okay? It’s more than that.”

“More than that,” Isaac repeated. “You mean, it means more to you than that? _She_ means more?”

“No… maybe. I don’t know. It’s not something I can just explain to you, when I don’t even understand it all myself. But you know, everyone knows, things have not been okay with Kate for a long time, maybe not ever,” Zac replied, stuffing his mouth again to buy time.

Isaac sighed, setting down his soda and standing up. “Alright, whatever. We need to get to work soon, though. So I would suggest perhaps getting dressed and, if you feel like it, pulling your head out of your ass.”

At that, Zac stuffed the remaining portion of the burger into his mouth, just to muffle out the string of curse words he felt like letting fly. He settled instead for crumpling up the wrapper and tossing it at his brother’s head. He stood with a groan and began to stretch, hoping that he could will the aches and pains out of his body before he had to start recording. Stiffly, he retrieved his jeans from the floor and stumbled his way into them.

With his clothes back in place, Zac decided that he needed a dose of caffeine to get himself going. Just as his hand touched the doorknob, he heard Isaac’s voice ring out.

“Did I mention the girls are coming over?”

Zac felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to open the door into his face. Maybe he could knock himself out… On second thought, he decided to put on the happiest face he could manage and just go to work. He could handle this. Besides, he was sure Kate wouldn’t want to be anywhere near him. Surely it would just be Natalie and Nikki coming to visit.

Certain that he had nothing to worry about, Zac plodded to the kitchen and flung open the refrigerator. He surveyed the contents for a few moments, finally deciding on a large energy drink that he was certain Taylor had left there a few days before. He hesitated at first, not willing to put up with Taylor’s bitching when he noticed his drink was gone. Ultimately, his need for caffeine won out.

His decision made, Zac slammed the fridge closed and spun around to walk back to the studio. Just as he rounded the corner of the stairs, he collided with another body. The impact sent him reeling backwards, spilling half the contents of the bottle in the floor. He scowled at the mess.

“Zac.”

The voice startled him, and Zac looked up slowly, finding himself face to face with his wife. “Kate, I – I didn’t know you were coming here today.”

It was only halfway a lie, Zac told himself. Isaac hadn’t been specific, after all, and there was no reason at all to think Kate would want to see him.

“Nat wanted me to help her run some errands, alright? That involved coming by here to visit Taylor, apparently,” Kate replied, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, alright,” Zac mumbled, turning away from her. He trudged back to the kitchen to retrieve a handful of paper towels to deal with the mess he had made. 

When he turned back around, he was surprised to find that Kate had followed him. She stood only a few feet behind him, her arms crossed tightly over her chest – more from discomfort, it seemed, than anger.

“Zac, about last night,” Kate began, taking a few steps closer to him. She looked for a moment as though she wanted to throw her arms around him, but kept them held close to herself instead. 

“Yeah, what about it? Don’t tell me you’ve had a change of heart already,” Zac replied, feeling no need to temper his sarcasm.

“Well, no but it’s just… I don’t know. Should we give up so fast?” Kate took another small step toward him. 

Zac raked his fingers through his hair, finding it full of knots that only made his head ache worse when his fingers tugged at them. “So fast? We’ve been having this same fight for years, Kate. This isn’t fast.”

“Is this the end of the rope, then? Really?” she asked, placing her hand gently on Zac’s chest and closing the gap between their bodies. Suddenly, her face blanched. “Zachary.”

“Yes?”

Stumbling backward, Kate replied, “You smell like… like perfume.”

Zac felt his stomach turn and the hamburger threatened to make its presence known again. What could he say? A lie wouldn’t help, but neither would the truth. He could manage nothing but a few soft stutters.

Kate frowned deeply, her hands on her hips. “Can you explain that? Please tell me you can explain that and it’s not what I think.”

“And if it is?” Zac questioned, his voice nearly a whisper.

“Well, then,” Kate replied, her voice deep and low. “How long?” 

“What?”

“How long has this been going on? Is this why you didn’t want me anymore?” 

“Kate, I never said that I –,” Zac began, but cut himself off before he could finish the lie. “This isn’t about you, okay? Our problems are nothing new. This.. this is, I don’t know what it is but it’s not the reason why things are wrong with us.”

“It sure as hell isn’t going to make things better between us,” Kate replied, her voice full of venom.

“Neither are you,” Zac spat, knowing he should regret the words no matter how much truth they held.

Kate closed the distance between them in one long stride, her hand reaching out to strike Zac’s face. The impact sent him backwards and he grasped at the countertop to keep his balance. Her hand still on his cheek, Kate whispered, “I loved you.”

“Did you?” 

“I did,” she replied, stepping away from him, her legs obviously unsteady.

“I _loved_ you, too. Once,” Zac replied, clutching his cheek. 

Kate turned on her heel and strode out of the room quickly. On her way out, she mumbled, “I’m going back to Tulsa.”

“Good. Run away again,” Zac replied, 

“This time don’t expect me back,” Kate called out, punctuating it with the slam of the door.

Zac felt his legs give way beneath him and fell to the floor with a thump that echoed through his body. Yet despite his physical reaction, he could not truthfully say that he felt any great emotion. This was how it ended. He hadn’t gotten away with it after all. 

He didn’t know how to feel about it. Didn’t know how he was supposed to feel, or what he truly felt. All he was certain of, as pulled himself to his shaky feet, was that he needed to run. He needed to be anywhere but in that studio, pretending things were okay. 

He picked up the paper towels he had dropped on the floor and quickly cleaned up his mess, then chugged what was left of the lukewarm drink. Zac bounded up the steps two at a time, feeling all the more anxious to be gone. The studio door was unlocked, letting him know that Ike and Taylor had not yet begun to record. Ignoring them entirely, he went straight for his shoes and jacket, making sure that his wallet and cell phone were in place.

A cough alerted him that someone had noticed his attempt at a getaway. He turned to see Isaac staring him down, arms folded. 

“And you’re going… where, exactly?” 

“Out,” Zac replied tersely.

“It better be for something that can wait until after we finish this song,” Ike replied, the look on his face daring Zac to defy him.

Taylor stepped out of the booth then, Natalie trailing behind him. Zac rolled his eyes. This was just what he didn’t need. He planted his feet securely, crossing his arms to mimic Ike, knowing that when it came down to it, he would relent and let him get away with leaving. Taylor, however, would be a different story.

“What’s going on, guys?” Taylor asked, seemingly oblivious of the tension in the room.

“I need a break.”

“We haven’t even started yet,” Taylor replied. “What are you talking about?”

Zac groaned. “I’m not starting today. I’m taking the day off. I can’t deal with this shit right now.”

“Look, I don’t know what your problem is this time,” Taylor began, stepping away from Natalie. “But you need to grow the fuck up and stop pouting like this every time you get upset about something. Now, we seriously have to get to work. We have to finish the rough take of “Thinking Bout Somethin” today, alright?”

“No, it’s not fucking alright,” Zac replied. He could see Isaac’s raised hand, a sign for him to back off. He ignored it and forged on, “I’m not doing this today. I’m not putting on a nice face and singing like nothing’s wrong.”

“And just exactly what’s wrong this time?” Taylor scoffed.

“Ask your wife. I’m sure she knew Kate was planning this,” Zac said. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Natalie piped up, even seeming to surprise herself with the outburst.

Isaac stepped forward, blocking the path between Natalie and Zac. His voice a practiced even tone, he said, “Zac, I hope you’re not gonna keep pretending that you didn’t give her the final push. You know you’re finally as much to blame as she is.”

“Will you please tell us what the fuck is going on here?” Taylor shouted, rising to his full height as he tried to make himself heard over the human barrier Isaac had created.

“Fine, you’re right, Ike. She’s leaving, okay? She’s fucking leaving, for good this time, and it’s my fault,” Zac spat out, then added with a sneer, “Don’t look so surprised, guys.”

Zac didn’t feel any need to stick around long enough for any of them to think of a response to that. He yanked the door open and hurried down the stairs, holding his breath that he would make it outside without anyone chasing after him.


	17. Fill My Sorrow

Spencer was thankful the next day that she only had to give one exam and did not have to sit through any classes or exams of her own. She was able to plod around the apartment as slowly as she wanted to in the morning, taking her time getting dressed and gathering up her books and supplies for the day. She had a few days respite from her thesis work before her professors would turn over their latest feedback on it and set her back to work on another draft. The small break would give maybe her time to finish up her teaching duties, she thought. 

She had hoped the day would be uneventful. It seemed this was her last chance to relax at the end of the semester before diving back into her own work. A part of her even wanted to leave her cell phone home just to spare herself any distractions, but at the last minute she turned back around and tossed it in her purse before striding out her apartment door to begin the day.

After stopping by Dr. Garrett’s office to deliver the latest thesis draft, she walked into the classroom where her freshman class had already begun gathering. She handed over their exams and ran through the cursory list of do’s and dont’s that they had surely heard several times in the past week, then took her seat at the front of the lecture hall. She pulled a large stack of papers out of her bag began the tedious task of grading them while her students worked to make the stack higher.

An hour into the exam session, when most of the students had already cleared out of the room, Spencer heard her phone buzzing inside of her purse. It seemed like a horrible repeat of the last class and she truly didn’t want to answer it. Just in case it was something serious, she decided not to ignore the call. Cursing herself for bringing it to class at all, she dug through her purse to find it. The handful of students still slaving over their exams did not even glance up.

Flipping the phone open, Spencer read the message displayed on the screen.

_are you busy? can i see you today? – z_

It wasn’t the message she had expected. A part of her was surprised Daniel had given up so easily, after the determination he had shown in the last few weeks. She couldn’t say for sure if another plea from him would have been more upsetting or less than the message she found herself unable to look away from. Cursing her lack of spine, Spencer typed a quick reply.

_I’m teaching class right now but I’ll be done soon.  
When/where can you meet me?_

Spencer tapped her feet impatiently, feeling herself grow more and more anxious for Zac’s response. She held her phone close to her body, keeping it hidden as one of the last few students returned his exam to her desk. As he walked away, Spencer felt her phone vibrate again and turned it over to view the message.

_txt when you’re free, i’ll meet you at that vegan place_

Spencer found her anxiety only growing as the minutes ticked by. She watched the last few students with annoyance, wishing they would finish their essay questions and turn in their exams. It shocked her how much she wanted to see Zac; she could not have predicted the butterflies in her stomach or the nervous tingle running up her spine. The time they spent together, although sometimes awkward and nearly always clandestine, seemed to be one of the few bright spots in her days. It had not been twenty four hours, yet already she was practically aching just to see him again.

Once the last student had returned his exam, Spencer grabbed the large stack of papers and stuffed them in her bag. On top of that, she stuffed in the stack of partially graded exams, and the several pens and other ephemera she had scattered on the desk. As she swung her bag over her shoulder and stood to leave the room, she fired off a quick message to Zac.

_Class is over. I can be at the cafe in 10_

Without waiting for a reply, she set off across campus. She kept her phone clutched tightly in her hand the whole way, though she found herself trembling enough to nearly drop it twice. Spencer hated this helpless feeling, this loss of control at the hands of a boy. As much as she wanted to run, put as much distance as possible between her and that feeling, her legs carried on her toward him.

A few yards from the restaurant where he had agreed to meet her, Spencer began to wonder if Zac would truly be there. She looked down at her phone, to just make sure she hadn’t missed a new message. Looking up again, she saw him and let out a sigh of relief.

His back was to Spencer, sitting on a bench just ahead of her. But she was certain it was Zac. His worn chucks were tapping out a beat against the sidewalk as he absentmindedly played with his ponytail. Yes, it was him. No question about it.

She stopped just beside him and shuffled her feet a little before clearing her throat loudly enough to catch his attention. Zac turned around and, even though his sunglasses obscured much of his face, his delight and relief in seeing her was obvious.

“Good timing on the text,” Spencer said, smiling. “If my freshmen hadn’t finished their exams early, you would have been waiting on me for a while.”

Zac chuckled softly. “I’ve kinda been waiting, anyway. I’ve just been walking around the campus for a while.”

“Stalking me again, huh?” Spencer replied, sitting down next to him and tossing her bag onto the sidewalk next to her.

Looking down and pulling off his sunglasses, Zac replied, “We were supposed to be recording, but I… well, I left. Needed some fresh air, I guess, and somehow I ended up here.”

Spencer shook her head in mock derision. “That’s not good. You shouldn’t run away from work just to see me.”

“It wasn’t just to – not that I didn’t want to see you, I mean,” Zac stuttered. “But, well, I don’t know how much you wanna hear about all this. Long story short – Kate, my wife… she’s leaving. Going back to Tulsa early.”

“Your wife is leaving and you’re here with _me_?”

“Kinda silly, huh?”

Spencer glanced down at her hands in her lap. “That’s not the word I would have picked.”

“Stupid?”

“Maybe. More like foolish, I guess.” Spencer sighed. “I just don’t know what I can give you right now.”

“It’s not about what you can give me. I’m not asking anything from you,” Zac replied, instinctively reaching out for Spencer’s hand, resting his gently on top of it.

“But you are, don’t you see that? Coming to me like this… hell, coming to me at all. But especially now, when you know you should be chasing after your wife, you’re asking me for something,” Spencer said.

“You said it yourself that we shouldn’t avoid this just because it’s wrong,” Zac replied, his voice catching in his throat. “If this thing makes us happy…”

“But this is serious now!” Spencer replied, then paused to take a breath and lower her voice. She didn’t want to create a scene or attract any attention at all to this encounter. She was quite certain she couldn’t handle that. “This isn’t just about us… sleeping together. Your wife is leaving, Zac. That’s serious and you need to deal with that, not run from it.”

“What can I do about it?” He asked, not seeming to notice that his voice was getting higher and louder. “I’ve spent three years fighting this fight with her, trying to figure out what could keep this marriage from exploding. I’m done with that fight now. I can’t win it.”

“And you’re sure it’s really time to throw in the towel?”

Zac sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe I should have given up a long time ago, maybe not. Maybe when I get back home, she’ll be there and we can… I don’t know, maybe we can fix things then.” 

_When you’re not around me anymore,_ Spencer thought, but held her tongue. Instead, she replied, “I just don’t think you should give up on it all just because you see something else that interests you.”

“You think that’s all this is? Just a passing fancy? A fucking crush or something?” Zac asked, his boldness even surprising him a little.

“I have no idea what this is to you, Zac.”

“Look, I’m not a… I mean, I’ve never cheated before. This isn’t just a thing I do, alright?” Zac paused for a moment to gage Spencer’s reaction, then asked, “Do you believe me when I say that?”

“Jesus, I don’t know what to believe. That’s the point; I don’t know you well enough to trust you or believe you or anything. I’m not saying I don’t feel like you’re being honest, but I just don’t fucking know you. And you can’t go throwing your life away for someone who doesn’t know you,” Spencer replied. 

A part of her hated to vocalize these things, but she knew it was all true. All of the guilt she had felt over her weeks with Zac seemed to have come crashing down on her at once. One look at his face told her he was falling apart and she knew that as much as she was part of the cause, she couldn’t be part of the solution. She couldn’t fix him.

“That’s logical, I know it is,” Zac said, his voice hoarse, betraying the fact that it was taking everything in him not to completely lose himself. “I’m trying to tell you, though, that it isn’t just a mess because of you. It’s been a mess for years and you just came into my life maybe at the worst time.”

“Which is why I shouldn’t stay in it,” Spencer found herself saying, and the words seemed to have come from someone else. She knew they were hers, knew it without a doubt – but she did not want them to be.

“So that’s it then? That’s all there’s gonna be for us? Just… just what we’ve had?” Zac asked.

“What else can there be?” Spencer asked, garnering no response but a blank stare. “Even if it were an option, which it isn’t, there couldn’t be anything else. I’m here and you’re gonna be… what, in Oklahoma? Touring the country? Navigating the world of divorce? You and me can’t happen, even if it’s what we want.”

“You should know, if you don’t already, that I’m too stubborn to give up on this just because you tell me to,” Zac replied, looking Spencer in the eyes.

“And you should know that I’m too stubborn to give in to you, when I can see you’re making a horrible mistake,” Spencer countered, keeping her gaze steady on Zac. 

“Then I guess there’s not much we can do.”

“You can go back to your wife,” Spencer said, taking a deep, ragged breath. “Go back to her and figure out if all is lost. If it is, deal with that. If it isn’t, figure out how to deal with that. Fix yourself. You’re the only one who can. I can’t help you.”

“Sometimes I can’t decide whether I like that you’re so smart or if it just annoys the piss out of me,” Zac replied with a small, sideways grin. It was a look that made Spencer want to reach out and kiss him, but she knew how unwise that was. Instead, she gave his hand a squeeze, hoping that was enough. It was all the affection she felt was safe.

“I’m not that smart. If I were, I could find a way to help you fix this,” Spencer said, grasping Zac’s hand tightly.

Zac smiled and looked as though he might say something, then glanced down at the watch on his wrist and sighed. “I should probably go. I’m sure my brothers are ready to kill me.”

Spencer nodded. “I’ve got to go meet with one of my students in a little while, anyway. But I’m glad… I’m glad we could talk. I don’t know if it’s really done us any good, but I think it was necessary.”

“Is this really gonna be it for us, too?” Zac asked.

“I don’t know,” Spencer admitted. “Seems we have a habit of running into each other. Let’s just let it be, and if we run into each other again, just let it happen. Let’s not force anything to happen. But maybe it isn’t the best for us to seek each other out.”

“In other words, lose your phone number,” Zac said wryly.

“Don’t lose it,” Spencer replied, giving his hand another squeeze. “Just put it aside for a while.”


	18. The One You’re Leaving Now

“I think we’re really close to having this album down. Don’t you think so?” Isaac asked, glancing over his shoulder as he steered his car through the streets of Nashville. His voice was raised to be heard over the sound of the GPS calling out instructions to the nearest Wendy’s – instructions he barely seemed to be following anyway.

“Well, we’ve got good takes for at least seven songs,” Taylor replied, attempting to stretch out a little in his seat. “It’s not a full album but it’s a pretty good start. We’ll get the rest of it done back in Tulsa, definitely.”

“Zac? Any thoughts?” Ike asked, looking quickly over his shoulder.

“Nope. No thoughts.”

“None at all?” Tay asked, turning around in his seat as Isaac pulled into the drive-thru.

“I said no thoughts, okay?” Zac snapped, scooting toward the window to look at out the menu. He already knew what he was going to order, but it kept him from having to look at Taylor.

Everything seemed to be falling apart for him, Zac thought. He ought to have known that he wouldn’t be able to keep Spencer a secret. He didn’t really like having to be so secretive anyway, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think he could tell the whole world about their relationship. Was it a relationship? The word didn’t quite seem to fit, but he didn’t have a better one.

“Zac? Zac! Are you gonna get any food or what?” Isaac hissed, shooting Zac a frustrated look in the rear-view mirror.

“What? Oh, just get me a bacon cheeseburger and some fries,” Zac replied, fishing a few wadded bills out of his pocket and tossing them over the seat to his brother. After a moment’s pause to be sure Ike didn’t need anything else from him, Zac pressed his head back against the window and closed his eyes.

Once they had paid for and received their food, Isaac and Taylor resumed chattering about the album – which songs needed more work, which were ready for some final tweaking, which order they sounded best in, and so on. It wasn’t that Zac didn’t have an opinion on those matters, but he found it was usually easier to let Ike and Taylor argue it out and only offer his opinion if they couldn’t come to an agreement. Usually they were both somewhat in the wrong and it was much easier not to take sides, but instead just let the fight play itself out before worrying too much.

Zac was beginning to wonder if being so laid back about his problems wasn’t causing more of them. Maybe he ought to assert himself once in a while. Maybe if he did, he’d end up getting what he wanted. Then again, he had been quite assertive with Spencer, and that wasn’t working out particularly well. Maybe there was just no way to win at all, Zac thought.

He became so absorbed in his thoughts that he did not even realize that they had arrived back at their rental home. The car came to a sudden stop which jolted him a bit, knocking his forehead against the window. The impact pulled him out of his thoughts and he reached into the front seat to retrieve his food from where Taylor had placed it. When Zac reached for his large soda in the cup holder, Taylor grabbed his hand and pulled the cup back.

“What the fuck, Tay? That’s mine,you’ve already got yours,” Zac said, frowning.

“Just trying to get your attention,” Taylor replied with forced smile. “I wanted to talk, alright?”

Zac groaned and let go of the soda. “I don’t want to talk. I don’t have anything to say.”

“Not about the album, alright? Fuck that. We’ve got time to sort that out with or without your input. I want to talk about you and Kate,” Taylor replied.

Zac rolled his eyes and turned away from Taylor, unlocking the door and stepping out. He didn’t need Taylor’s attempts at caring or trying to relate. He really didn’t feel like straining his eyes with all the rolling that would require. It wasn’t that he thought Taylor didn’t care, but the strain in his marriage had seemed to drive a wedge between them that they couldn’t budge. They just couldn’t relate like they used to. Zac missed it, but he didn’t know how to get it back. It was easier to just let it be, like everything else.

He heard the crunch of gravels behind him, and Taylor soon popped up in front of him, blocking the path to the guest house. 

“Zac, you’re going to talk to me. I don’t care whether you want to or not, it’s going to happen,” Taylor said, pushing his sunglasses up his forehead to reveal the serious look on his face.

“And Taylor always gets what Taylor wants,” Zac replied.

“I didn’t say that, did I?” Taylor frowned. “But you need to listen to me. This is for your good, not mine. So just deal with it.”

“Fine, whatever,” Zac said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Say whatever you want to say.”

“Nat texted me on the drive home. She says Kate’s really gonna leave,” Taylor said, taking a sip of his soda.

“Yeah, so? That’s all you wanted to tell me?” Zac replied, fishing around in his bag for a few stray fries.

Taylor frowned and Zac could see he was trying his brother’s patience already. Hopefully if he annoyed Taylor enough, he’d just give up on the conversation.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Zac?” Taylor asked, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I don’t get it. Your wife is leaving is you’re gonna just stand here being a bitch to me about it? I’ve tried to stay out of this because it’s nothing to me, but when Natalie starts bitching to me about it, I can’t leave it alone.”

Zac sat his bag of food down, now certain that this wouldn’t be a short conversation. “So what do you want me to do? I can’t help it that Kate’s run to her best friend to complain about me. I can’t change anything now. Don’t you think I’ve been trying to fix this for as long as I can? It’s time to let it go. It’s not gonna work.”

“Yeah, because cheating on your wife is obviously what you do when you’re trying to make things work,” Taylor replied, arms folded across his chest.

“You think my marriage wasn’t already broken beyond repair when that started? Kate left for Georgia and it just felt like the last time, like there was nothing left to do… and I fucked up, okay? I fucked up,” Zac said. After a small pause, he added, “Like you haven’t had your moments of weakness before.”

“This isn’t about me.”

“No, but you’re gonna pass your judgment on me,” Zac replied. “I just want you to realize when you’re calling the kettle black.”

“Natalie and I have put that in our past,” Taylor began, obviously straining to keep his voice even, his teeth clenched tightly. “I’m not perfect. I never claimed to be. Natalie and I have both worked really hard to keep this marriage together, because that’s what we want. We want each other, more than anything else. So we’re gonna fight to keep each other.”

“What’s your point?”

Taylor sighed. “My point is, if you’re not willing to fight anymore, if you’re ready to throw in the towel… then I guess it’s time. If Kate isn’t worth the fight now, then call it quits. Just don’t keep saying she’s what you want but not doing anything to prove it. So she’s no longer the love of your life. That’s fine. It happens. Man up and deal with it.”

“You’re not… you mean, you think this is the right thing?” Zac stuttered out, staring blankly at Taylor.

“Yeah, I think it is,” Taylor replied. He paused for a second, seemingly to collect his thoughts, and began again with a softer voice, “I think it’s obvious that you guys have gone about as long as you can putting in as little effort as possible. If it isn’t worth putting in more effort, it’s not worth saving. Let it go.”

“Glad to know my divorce has your seal of approval,” Zac replied, smiling a little to offset the sarcasm in his words.

Taylor laughed. “I never said you needed my approval, but I wanted to put my two cents in anyway. Just thought it might be helpful. Oh, by the way. Kate’s leaving tonight. Nat’s helping her pack your car. She’s probably in there packing right now.”

“Great,” Zac replied. “So let’s eat our cold burgers in the main house, huh?”

“You can’t avoid her forever,” Taylor replied.

“I don’t intend to,” Zac said with a sigh. “I mean, I guess I’ll see her when we get back to Tulsa. But after that… I don’t know. Is it bad that this feels like a weight off my shoulders?” 

Taylor patted Zac on the shoulder and nudged him toward the main house. “Nah, I think you just proved my point exactly. It’s like that ah… Kenny Rogers song. Know when to fold ‘em, or whatever.”

“God, Tay. You’re just so damn eloquent,” Zac replied, laughing. 

He picked up his bag of food and followed Taylor across the driveway to the main house. Isaac was already sitting in the kitchen, having distributed all the kiddie meals, and now stood watch over the table as their kids ignored the food in favor of playing with their new toys.

Zac headed straight for the microwave, grabbing a plate from the cabinet and sticking his food in to warm back up. Taylor had already scarfed down half his cheeseburger before they even walked through the door, so he supposed there was no need to ask if he wanted his food reheated as well.

With his plateful of burger and fries in hand, Zac turned to walk back out onto the porch. He needed a bit of fresh air after a full day spent in the studio. Things had gone surprisingly smoothly that day, but it was still stifling to stay inside when it was so warm and nice outside. Being locked in the studio all day was something he would never quite get used to, even after spending half his life recording music.

He sat down on the porch swing and sighed. Finally he could eat his dinner. It seemed like it had taken far too long to get to that point. Just as he took the first bite, he saw the door to the guest house swing open. Out walked Kate and Natalie, each dragging large suitcases behind them. Shepherd trailed behind, dragging a stuffed animal through the gravel. The realization that he would soon be going another two weeks or more without seeing his son made Zac’s appetite vanish.

“Kate,” Zac called out, pushing his food to the side and standing up.

She ignored him.

He walked toward the porch steps and leaned against the railing. “Kate.”

Still, she ignored him, continuing on to their truck and popping open the back. Zac wanted to be annoyed that she was taking the Tahoe and leaving him dependent on Taylor and Isaac, but he knew he wouldn’t complain to her about it. 

“Katie, look at me,” Zac said, walking off the porch and taking a few steps toward his wife. He would not go all the way to her. If they were going to talk, she would have to come to him.

Kate and Natalie stood close together, mumbling something that Zac couldn’t make out from where he stood. After a little bit of conversation, Natalie nodded and walked back toward the guest house. Kate settled Shepherd into the car seat, then turned to face Zac.

“Yes? What do you want now?” Kate asked, her arms folded. “Do you think you could have waited any longer? Chasing me down the road might have caused a scene, at least.”

Zac winced. “I think you’ve proven that you don’t really want me chasing you.”

“No, I don’t,” Kate replied, taking a small step forward. “I don’t want _this guy_ chasing me. However, if you can find the Zac I married, I wouldn’t mind at all for him to chase me.”

“You know I can’t be that Zac now. I probably never really was that Zac, anyway.”

“Well, if you can’t be the boy I fell in love with, where does that leave us?” Kate asked, and Zac could see she was struggling to keep her expression steady and emotionless.

Zac took a step toward her. “I guess it leaves us exactly where we are. Can… can I see Shep for a minute before you guys leave?”

“Yeah, of course. I’m gonna go help Natalie,” Kate replied, stepping out of Zac’s way and turning to walk back up the driveway.

He slid into the backseat of the car, sitting down next to Shepherd’s car seat. He immediately unbuckled his son and pulled him out of the seat into his arms.

“Hey, buddy. Haven’t seen me much lately, have ya?” Zac asked, knowing not to expect a really intelligible answer but pleased to see Shepherd smile up at him and shake his head.

Zac ruffled his son’s hair and touched the stuffed animal that Shepherd still clutched in his hand. “Here’s the thing, Shep. You and Mommy are going away for a while again. But I’ll be there in just a couple weeks. It won’t be as bad as it seems, I promise. But things are gonna change a lot soon and you’re not gonna really understand what’s going on.”

Shepherd looked at his father and giggled. Zac suddenly felt very silly for even trying to have this conversation, but he also didn’t want to stop.

“But I want you to know this, though. Your mommy loves you. I love you. No matter what happens, that isn’t gonna change. Even if you don’t know what I’m saying, I think you know that I love you more than anything and I don’t want you to forget it, okay?” At that, Zac realized he was tearing up just a little. He wiped the tears away from his eyes and leaned down to kiss Shepherd on the forehead before settling him back into his car seat.

The crunch of footsteps and the sound of something being drug through the gravel alerted Zac to Kate’s return. He stood, turning his back to her long enough to wipe away the last few tears. When he turned around again, he took the suitcase from her hands and hoisted it into the back of the truck without a word.

The suitcase in place, Zac turned back around to face his wife. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair, trying to decide just what to say. Finally, he spoke, “Look, I’m sorry I can’t be the guy you married. I’m sorry that after eight fucking years I’ve changed. We’ve both changed. And I’m sorry that it seems like there’s no way to get through that.”

“Me too.” Kate replied, blinking back a few tears. “Me too.”


	19. My Fragile Strength Is Gone

Spencer spent the next two weeks barricaded in her apartment, mostly perched in front of the television as it played whatever rerun Abbey had chosen to watch. She kept her phone on silent most hours of the day, figuring that if she couldn’t stop Zac from calling, she could at least stop herself from agonizing over it. Late into the night, her laptop’s glow illuminated her face as she slaved away on the final draft of her thesis. She knew that she would still have several years more to perfect her analysis of Gabriel Garcia Marquez, but her determination to turn in a perfect draft to end her first year of graduate work kept her up at all hours, typing furiously. 

Four days before the deadline, Spencer reached a point where she felt there was nothing more she could add without starting over entirely and tackling the project from a different angle. That was when she knew it was time to stop, and for once, get to sleep at a decent hour.

She woke the next morning to the smell of French toast, and found Abbey whistling to herself as she wandered around the kitchen preparing breakfast. Spencer vaguely recalled Abbey mentioning that she had the day off and would cook them a large breakfast, a thought which had been exciting the night before. She couldn’t actually recall the last full meal she had eaten; she had found herself far too busy working and trying to keep her mind off Zac to eat more than a few bites here and there.

Yet, the smell of her favorite breakfast food did nothing but make Spencer’s stomach turn.

“I fixed a plate just for you!” Abbey called out, smiling and motioning to a full plate on the counter.

Spencer shook her head. “I’m really in a hurry, Abs. I can’t stay and eat, I’m sorry. I promise I’ll eat two platefuls the next time you make breakfast, okay?”

Abbey tilted her head a bit and seemed to contemplate a remark, but ultimately shrugged and turned back to the stove. Spencer was thankful for the lack of questions, because she didn’t have any answers herself. For days she had felt little hunger, and what hunger she did feel was soon accompanied by nausea. She supposed it was just the stress of trying to complete her thesis that was plaguing her body. It would all be better once she had handed the volume over to her adviser, she decided.

Her first stop on campus was the library, where she slipped her university card into a machine by the printer and confirmed how many pages she needed to print. As she waited for the printer to finish spitting out her academic future, Spencer began to feel dizzy. The rhythmic sound of the printer made her head go fuzzy and she found herself gripping the sides of the table it rested on to keep her balance. It suddenly occurred to her that she could no longer feel her legs. That was an odd thought, Spencer decided. If she _could_ feel her legs, she wouldn’t be thinking about the fact that she could feel them.

The next thing she knew was the scratchy texture and odd smell of the library’s carpeting.

A crowd of library workers and students had gathered around her, but she could not focus on any of their faces. The colors were too bright and Spencer blinked several times in an attempt to make her vision less blurry. When she thought her legs might work again, she stood slowly and assured the crowd that she was fine. 

One of the librarians handed her stack of papers to her, with a binder clip already holding them together. Spencer wanted to thank her, but her mouth had gone dry and her throat clenched when she tried to speak. She took the papers with as much of a smile as she could manage and hoped that would suffice.

As she stumbled out of the library, Spencer was grateful that her adviser’s office was only a short walk away. The nausea and dizziness that had taken residence in her made Spencer feel very much like a freshman stumbling home from a party, and she feared she looked the part too. On the steps outside Benson Hall, she smoothed her hair and skirt in hopes of looking a bit less frazzled.

Finally reaching Dr. Garrett’s door, she found it locked tight with a scribbled post-it note informing visitors that he had to cancel his office hours. Spencer rolled her eyes.

_Typical._

She withdrew a pen from her purse and scrawled a quick note across the front of her thesis. He had such a tendency for missing appointments and office hours – Spencer couldn’t really recall why she had chosen him for an advisor at all – that Dr. Garrett had affixed a folder to his door for essays and things to be turned in. Stuffing all fifty-three pages of her thesis in the folder, Spencer turned to leave.

Halfway down the hall, she felt the dizziness come over her again. This time, she was more prepared and stumbled toward the wall, letting it hold her up until the floor stopped moving. A horrible thought was taking shape in the back of Spencer’s mind and as much as she tried, she could not push it away. 

As much as she didn’t want to know the answer to that nagging question, she had to.

****

Spencer had barely managed to stumble to the bus station, knowing that a bus would be by soon. It was the quickest way back to their apartment and, in her state, far safer than walking. She was up the stairs to her apartment in what felt like seconds, taking two steps at once to save even more time. 

Flinging the door open, she ran right past Abbey’s quizzical look and into her room. Her desk was a mess of books and papers, and she tossed them aside with abandon, looking for a little purple packet. With it finally in hand, she rushed back into the living room, where Abbey still sat on the couch, mouth agape.

“What day is it, Abbey?”

“Really? You got that caught up in your thesis?” Abbey asked, cracking a small smile.

“I’m serious here,” Spencer said, leaning against the back of the couch and staring Abbey down. “What day is it?”

“Thursday.”

“Then why… oh goddamnit, I’ve really fucked this up…” Spencer asked, waving the offending pack of pills around, then tossing it to the ground as thought it were actually to blame.

Before Abbey could make any sort of response, Spencer rushed to the bathroom. She was knew that the two of them had purchased several pregnancy tests a few months before, just because Abbey had a coupon. Neither of them really thought there would be a need, but it made them feel a bit better about their sex lives, at the time, to think there might be a need for such things. 

She dug through their cabinet, pulling out a box that promised early and accurate results. With the box in hand, she pushed the door shut, certain that Abbey would soon be lurking on the other side. Spencer didn’t feel remotely ready to deal with any questions.

A million thoughts raced through her mind as she waited for the test strip to change. Maybe her body was just rebelling against the missed pills and she should ask her doctor for a different prescription. She hadn’t been on that prescription long, maybe her body just didn’t like it. There had been that morning she had thrown up, but she had blamed that on bad sushi. How had she made it through almost a week without noticing that something was definitely missing? None of it made sense. 

But maybe, just maybe, her gut instinct was wrong. It was just the stress of finishing up her thesis, and things would be okay now that it was turned in and she could sleep and eat like a normal person again. Maybe things would be okay after all. 

Maybe.

Once the alloted amount of time had passed, she pulled the tester off the counter. She grasped it in her hand, holding it out from her body and shutting her eyes. She couldn’t look, couldn’t even stand be so close to the horrible truth. 

“Abbey!” Spencer called out, her voice cracking.

Abbey pushed the door open and stared wide-eyed at the scene in front of her. “What? Oh. Oh, Spencer…”

“Just read it,” Spencer snapped, eyes still squeezed shut.

Abbey stepped forward and peered hesitantly at the tester. “A blue line is what we don’t want, right?”

“Yes. Oh fuck, no. It isn’t?”

“It is.”

“Fuck.”

Without a word, Abbey ran from the room. Spencer felt herself slowly falling off the side of the tub, coming to rest in a heap in the floor. Of all possible bad scenarios, this was the worst. She ought to have known that this couldn’t be so easy and could never stay a secret. Something just had to happen to ruin the balance of things, to make this awful affair real.

She needed it gone. She couldn’t even think of _it_ as something that could become a he or she. It was proof of her weakness and nothing else. It was a mistake. A big, horrible mistake that she couldn’t live with. Spencer buried her face in the bath rug and let out a sob. 

Seconds later, she heard the creak of the door opening and felt Abbey’s hand on her shoulder, nudging her into somewhat of a seated position. Her arms wrapped tight around Spencer, Abbey spoke, “I called Planned Parenthood. They can get you in two weeks from Tuesday, if that’s what you want. They said you ought to wait a bit and take another test, to be sure.”

Spencer nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have just done that for you without asking, but I just figured that it would be what you –”

Trying to contain her sobs, Spencer pulled back to look at Abbey. “No, no of course it is. You know I can’t do this. I can’t be a mother, for Christ’s sake. Not now. And not… not…”

Abbey nodded and pulled Spencer back for another hug. “I know, honey. I don’t blame you at all. You know I would do the same thing if it were me.”

“You would?” Spencer asked. “I just… I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll regret it, but I can’t go through this. The whole thing, the whole nine months, and then… I can’t do this, Abbey. I just can’t.”

“I know, I know. I’m right there with you, believe me,” Abbey replied. “Is it… is it Zac’s?”

Spencer nodded, then spoke, “Yeah, yeah it’s his.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“Oh god, I didn’t even think about that. I don’t really… have to, right?” Spencer squeaked out.

Abbey gave her a disapproving stare. “You really aren’t going to tell him? Don’t you think he ought to know?”

Spencer wiggled out of her friend’s grasp and backed up against the side of the tub. “Ought to know, what? That he really dodged a bullet? That he’s lucky the girl he decided to have an affair with is pro-choice? As far as I’m concerned, once this is over, it isn’t his concern at all. I don’t need to fuck up his life more than I already have.”

Abbey shrugged, but Spencer could tell there was more argument left in her. Maybe Abbey was right and Zac did need to know. But what could she say? She couldn’t lay this weight on him when he already seemed ready to break at any moment. 

No, this would stay hers. She could not, would not, let him know.


	20. Stopped Believing In Happy Endings

It was real.

After three more tests, even the most expensive one the drug store had to offer, Spencer was forced to admit that it was real. Part of her kept hoping she could wake up from this horrible nightmare. Maybe if she pinched herself hard enough… but no, this was reality. 

She was pregnant, and it was Zac’s. 

Just thinking that thought made her stomach lurch and blood rush to her head. This was the kind of mess other girls got themselves into. She had made it all the way to twenty-three years old without so much as a single scare. She had a plan and a path and a draft of her dissertation turned in; she wasn’t the kind of person who had to worry about this sort of thing. But now she was.

With her classes and work done for the summer – teaching summer classes was thankfully not a requirement of her fellowship – she found herself spending days lying on the couch. By the end of a week, she had watched all of their dvds and eaten three cartons of Chunky Monkey. It seemed like the days passed by in a daze – get up, cook breakfast if she thought her stomach could handle it, turn on the tv, and veg out until Abbey came home with dinner. 

She could tell it was grating on Abbey’s nerves, but thankfully her roommate seemed content to let her wallow in her own misery. 

Or so she thought.

One day, just as House had agreed to go out with Cameron (for the third time that day), Abbey burst through the door hours earlier than Spencer had expected.

“Get your ass up off that couch!” Abbey yelled as she strode through the room. “You haven’t even been to the doctor, so you are so not on bedrest.”

Spencer groaned and turned up the volume on the television. 

Abbey walked back into the room and stood directly in front of the tv, her arms folded. “I said get the fuck up. Seriously, I can’t deal with this mopeyness. You’re just gonna get more miserable the longer you sit on that couch. Get up, shower, and we’re gonna go out to dinner.”

“I don’t think I like this show,” Spencer replied, flicking the remote in Abbey’s general direction.

“You’re so funny. Seriously, get your ass up,” Abbey replied, rolling her eyes. She picked up the open ice cream carton and carried it to the kitchen.

Without turning to look at her, Spencer replied, “Go out to dinner by yourself.”

“For fuck’s sake! I’m trying to cheer you up.” Abbey said, throwing her arms up and storming out of the room.

Spencer couldn’t think of a reply and the slamming of Abbey’s bedroom door told her she didn’t need to bother. She knew this was an argument she wouldn’t win. With a sigh, she lifted herself from the couch and padded to the bathroom, where she showered quickly. She dressed herself without interest, hardly even bothering to see if her outfit looked alright. She was toweling off her hair and contemplating makeup when Abbey burst into the room.

“You’re wearing that?” 

“What?” Spencer frowned, glancing down at her jeans and wrinkled tank top. “You’re gonna insist I dress up, too?”

“Well, you could at least try. Just forget it though, I was just gonna take you out for pizza,” Abbey replied, running back out of the room before Spencer could reply. Feeling a bit like a puppet, she decided to put on a bit of makeup, mostly to shut Abbey up.

Her hair still a bit damp, but her eyes at least lined and her lips glossed, Spencer wandered back into the living room, only to see Abbey now crashed in front of the tv, sorting through her purse as House continued to play on the television.

“Do we really have to do this?” Spencer asked, plopping down next to her friend.

“Yes, we do. For one, you’re not eating enough. I know you’re feeling ill but you need to eat no matter what. And I just think a change of scenery is good for you. So you can breathe a little.”

“And whatever I say, you’re gonna make me go?”

“Damn right.”

Spencer resigned herself to at least go along with Abbey’s plan and fake enjoyment. She doubted that she would find anything fun about the night, except perhaps getting a chance to eat some good pizza instead of the cheap, half-cold kind Abbey brought home some nights. With that in mind, she followed Abbey to her car and tried to relax as she drove them to Mario’s, their old favorite pizza place.

Every song on the radio seemed to be some horrible, sad love song and it only made Spencer feel worse. She didn’t know why love songs should be getting to her. She wasn’t in love. She was anything _but_ in love. If she were in love, she’d feel some pressing need to let Zac know about his child. Not that it mattered if she told him; she had made up her mind and wouldn’t let it be changed. This would not be. She and Zac could not be together; it wasn’t even remotely the life she wanted.

Sad love songs would depress anyone, wouldn’t they? That’s all there was to it, Spencer decided.

Within just a few minutes, they arrived at the restaurant. Spencer followed just a few feet behind Abbey as they walked up the sidewalk from where they had parked. When they neared Mario’s, Spencer glanced in the large window to see how crowded it was. Usually it was packed, but she hoped this night would be different; she didn’t know if her frayed nerves could handle a crowd.

To her dismay, the small room was quite full. The only empty seats seemed to be at the bar, next to a boy with shaggy blond hair. Just as Spencer noticed him, he raised his head – 

“No. No, I’m not going in,” Spencer spat out, truning on her heel.

“What the hell?” Abbey cried. “Where are you going?”

“Walking home,” Spencer replied, not even turning around for fear that he would see her again.

She felt Abbey tugging on her shirt and struggled to pry herself free.

“For fuck’s sake, what is your problem _now_?” Abbey asked, spinning Spencer back around to face her.

“Look at the bar, Abs. Fucking look,” Spencer hissed.

Abbey’s face flashed confusion, but nevertheless she obeyed. Her eyes scanned the restaurant, coming to rest on Zac. 

Turning back to Spencer, she spoke, “Oh. Okay, I can kind of see why you’re freaking out. But what do you want to do, just go somewhere else? Make a big scene out of it and wait until he leaves or a table frees up?”

“I don’t fucking know what we’re gonna do, but I am not going in there. I can’t see him.” Spencer tugged herself free of Abbey’s grasp and began walking back down the sidewalk again. She’d go in the diner at the corner for all she cared. As long as she could avoid Zac and eat something to get Abbey off her back.

“Spencer!”

That time, it was not Abbey’s voice that called her back. The sound of it made her freeze on the spot. She couldn’t continue walking, no matter how much she wanted to. 

“Spencer, please,” Zac called out again, his voice cracking just a bit at the end of her name.

Against all her judgment, Spencer turned slowly. Abbey had backed away, leaving Zac standing just a few feet from her, looking concerned.

“I’m sorry, does yelling at you down the sidewalk count as calling you?” Zac asked, the corner of his mouth starting to turn up in a small grin. “I mean, we didn’t really specify what I should do in this sort of situation, but you were leaving and I—”

“It’s fine,” Spencer replied, almost afraid of where his sentence might have gone if she had let him continue.

His legs shaking, Zac took a few steps toward Spencer. “Can we – can we talk? Maybe not at that pizza place, it’s pretty crowded, but somewhere?”

“I was supposed to have dinner with my bestie,” Spencer replied, glancing over Zac’s shoulder to see Abbey offering her some inventive sign language that she thought was encouragement to go with Zac. “There’s this goofy little old fashioned diner down the street. I’d kill for a milkshake right now. It’s not very crowded, either.”

“That’ll do. Not crowded is always a good thing. I dunno about you, but I hate crowds,” Zac replied, holding his arm out to Spencer. 

She hesitated for a moment, but the look on Zac’s face and the subtle pout of his lips melted her reserve and she accepted his arm. Arm in arm, the two walked down the street, both too afraid of ruining the moment to speak at all. When they reached the corner, Zac hopped in front of her to open the door with a sheepish smile.

Spencer walked in front of him into the diner, heading to a booth at the main back without a second thought. Zac followed and slid into the seat across from her, folding his arms on the table and staring straight at Spencer. His eyes unnerved her and she wished he’d look at the menu or anything else instead.

“Can you not look at me please?” Spencer asked.

“I’m sorry I have eyes?” Zac replied, his brow knotted in confusion.

“It isn’t – no, just the way you’re looking at me. Can you not do that?”

Zac’s frown deepened. “I’m looking at you like I want to know what you’re thinking. Like I don’t think, in the entire time I’ve known you, there’s been a single moment I had any clue what the hell was going on in your brain. And I can’t decide if I like that or not.”

Spencer opened her mouth to reply, then shut it again as a waitress approached. 

“What can I get you two?” the waitress asked, pulling a pencil from her tall hairdo.

“Banana milkshake,” Spencer replied, choosing to ignore Zac’s raised eyebrow as he flipped through the menu.

“Umm – mint chocolate chip?” he finally replied, looking up at the waitress with a smile.

When the waitress walked away with the menus, an awkward silence descended upon them. Zac tapped nervously against the table, while Spencer nibbled on her bottom lip. She watched Zac closely and realized he looked better than she’d seen before – more rested, perhaps. Still, there was a look of defeat about him, and she had a feeling she knew why.

“Look who’s staring now,” Zac remarked, but his smile told Spencer it was a joke, not an accusation.

“I’m sorry. I was just thinking,” she replied.

“’Bout what?”

“Just… stuff,” she said. “How ridiculous it is for us to just be sitting here like we’re on a date or something.”

“I’m sorry?”

Spencer buried her head in her hands and groaned. “No, no, no. This is just – it’s just weird! This shouldn’t happen, don’t you get that? We’re all wrong.”

“Are we really that wrong? I like us,” Zac replied.

“Let’s see. You’re you. I’m me. And for all the things I am, the one thing I’m not is your wife. Who by the way, won’t be that much longer if you keep doing this, this whatever-this-is with me.”

She could see that had touched a nerve in Zac. He leaned back against the booth and folded his arms across his chest. Spencer hoped he wouldn’t get up and leave, but she wouldn’t have blamed him if he had. 

“You’re right, okay?” Zac began, clenching his jaw tightly. “This is fucked up and it shouldn’t happen, but it did – it does. But how many times do I have to tell you, you’re not the reason my marriage is over. If anything, the fact that my marriage is a wreck was what drove me to you in the first place.”

“So I’m just like… just like a preemptive rebound fuck? Thanks a lot,” Spencer replied, then bit her tongue as she saw the waitress approaching, their milkshakes in hand. She accepted hers with a small nod and busied herself drinking it to prevent any more stupid outbursts.

Zac sat his milkshake down and pulled Spencer’s away from her. Her eyes now fixed on him again, he spoke, “I didn’t fucking say that. I didn’t even imply that. What I meant was, all this shit with Kate was coming to a boiling point and I could finally see how bad it was. And I needed someone – not just to fuck, that just kind of happened. What I needed was someone who would be there for me.”

“What you need is someone who can love you the way you haven’t been loved,” Spencer replied, stealing her milkshake back.

“Maybe you’re right,” Zac said, finally taking a sip of his own drink.

“You know that can’t be me? It can’t be. I’m not the girl you need,” Spencer admitted.

Zac let her words sink in, trying not to let his hurt show. He knew she would say that – had known all along, he supposed, that she would tell him that, one way or another. 

“I know, I know,” Zac said, trying not to choke on the words. “I’m not asking you to be, not now. But for now, can you just sit here and enjoy these milkshakes with me? Just sit here, be a friend, and then… I don’t know. Just give me that, for now.”

“That I can give you,” Spencer replied. “But I promise someday, you’ll ask something of me that I can’t give. I’m just warning you.”


	21. Give In To Weakness

Zac spent his last few days in Nashville in something of a fog. He went through the motions of recording and tried his best to deliver a good performance, but he just couldn’t find it in himself to get excited about it. He couldn’t even be excited about finishing, because that meant two things. 

One, he would have to go back to Tulsa and face up to Kate. He didn’t even know if she would be in the house when he arrived or not. Somehow he couldn’t imagine her wanting to stay there. At the same time, he could very well see her staying there and forcing him to go stay in a motel. He’d probably deserve that. Either way, going back to Tulsa meant dealing with her and all the trouble that would come along with that.

Two, it meant leaving Spencer. He knew she was pulling away, knew that she didn’t want him near as much he wanted to be near her, but the thought of leaving her still made him feel a little sick. She was so much stronger than him. He needed to be near her, to maybe steal some of that strength for himself, so he could pull through the mess he’d gotten himself into. At the same time, the rational part of his brain knew that being near her only meant digging himself deeper into the hole.

It was a no-win situation. He did not want to leave, but he did not want to stay. Neither one would bring him any sort of happiness. Maybe he ought to just run away. As he packed his suitcases, he considered all the ways he could sneak away and make his way to the airport. He could buy a ticket anywhere and just get away from it all.

But no. He couldn’t do that.

“Are you just about ready, Zac?” Isaac asked, flinging open the door to the guest house and walking right in, cigarette still in hand.

Zac faked an exaggerated cough, but Ike ignored him. “Yeah, yeah. Just about. Help me carry these outside?”

Ike nodded, sticking the cigarette in his mouth and picking up two of the smaller duffel bags by the door. Zac hoisted his guitar case over his back and drug his suitcase behind him. He was glad that it would just be him, Ike, Nikki and their children shoved into Isaac’s car. Taylor and Natalie had started out on their own a few hours earlier and he didn’t envy them having to deal with a car full of children at all. 

He piled his belongings into the back of Isaac’s car, then helped Ike load his own in. Once that was done, he took up his seat in the back with Monroe and Everett and tried to act interested in the book Everett insisted on showing him. Zac decided he would need to have a talk with Ike whenever they took a rest stop and ask him to tell the boys to leave Uncle Zac alone so he could sleep. Long car rides, especially when he wasn’t driving, had never been his favorite thing; the only way he could handle them was if he had his notebook to draw or some music to put him to sleep.

Somehow he didn’t think it would be so easy to keep himself sane during this drive.

As if she had read Zac’s mind, Nikki pulled out a portable DVD player and popped in some cartoons for the boys to watch. With them otherwise occupied, he would at least have a little privacy. He pulled his sketchbook and colored pencils out of his backpack and began to doodle. After three unfinished sketches of ginger haired women, he decided that the sketchbook had been a bad idea.

It wasn’t long before they were outside of Nashville and on the open road. The monotony of it would soon ease him into sleep, Zac hoped. He settled farther into his seat and pulled on the headphones. Anything to drown out the world around him and help him forget it all. 

Ten hours. 

Ten hours to get him back home, away from one disaster and into another. Out of the frying pan and into the fryer. 

 

_Zac had had the ring for months. He just couldn’t seem to find quite the right time to go for it. There were moments, when they fought, that he thought it was only that ring hidden in his closet that kept him from giving up._

He would know when it was time. He would just know.

Finally, his chance came. One last chance to see her before they left on a world tour. Sure, they had been fighting and barely speaking for a few days before that, but he was certain that when he saw her in person, everything would be okay.

When he saw Kate in the lobby of their hotel, her smile told him he was right. Things would be okay. He also realized that he hadn’t actually planned how _he was going to ask her._

They walked down the street together, Kate making small talk about her classes and Zac feeling the ring rattling around in his jacket pocket. He could think of nothing else. He had to ask. He had to do it. He had to know if this was worth all the trouble, all the fighting.

All through lunch, he could focus on nothing else and he was certain that Kate noticed his distraction, but she did not say anything. After lunch – he barely picked at his hamburger – they walked hand in hand back to the hotel room and Zac wondered what it would feel like to hold her hand when it bore his ring.

His hands were trembling as he opened the door to his hotel room. He sat nervously on the edge of the bed, hoping Kate would say something, anything that would give him a way to start this conversation. Instead, she sat next to him and pressed her body close against his, gently kissing his neck.

“Kate,” Zac said, scooting away from her. “We can’t do this right now.”

“What’s wrong? Why not?” she asked, the annoyance in her voice obvious.

Zac turned to look at her, and stuffed his hand into his pockets. “It’s just – well, I think everyone is coming back soon, for one thing. And for another thing, we need to talk.”

“Oh. Oh, okay,” Kate replied, her eyes darting downwards. 

He realized Kate thought he was going to break up with her and he instinctively grabbed her hands. “Hey, look at me. It’s nothing bad, nothing bad at all.”

“What is it then?”

“Kate, I love you. You know that. I love you and can’t imagine myself without you. I know things aren’t always perfect, but I just don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you anymore. Even when it’s bad, I think it’s better than not having you at all.”

Kate nodded, her eyes widening as realization came over her.

Zac pulled his hand back and fished the ring from his pocket.

“Marry me, Katie?”

With a huge smile and tears in the corners of her eyes, Kate nodded her head and pulled Zac in close for a hug. 

Zac sighed. He had his answer. Things would be okay. Things would be okay as long as he had Kate.

 

Zac awoke with a start, realizing that Isaac was nudging him in the shoulder. He pulled off his headphones and rubbed his eyes. 

“Stopped for lunch. You want anything?” Isaac asked.

He shook his head. “Not hungry.”

Isaac shrugged and stepped out of the car. Zac knew he’d probably bring him back a hamburger or something anyway, but he doubted he’d be able to eat it. He had been sleeping well, for the most part. He had slept well, for the most part. The only problem was that dream. Why did he have to be reminded of that now? 

In a few minutes, they returned to the car and Isaac, predictably, handed Zac a burger. Although he shot his brother a dirty look, he forced himself to eat it anyway and settled back down into his seat for the rest of the drive.

The second portion of the drive mostly passed uneventfully. He napped a while longer, watched a few episodes of Yo Gabba Gabba on the tiny screen and just tried to keep his mind off whatever might be waiting for him back in Tulsa.

When they arrived, Isaac decided to drop Zac off first before going on to their house. He looked back at Zac in the rearview as they closed in on his street and asked, “You okay, Zac?”

“I’d have to be delusional to be okay right now.”

Isaac nodded. “I know, I know. Do you know if Kate’s gonna be at the house?”

“Didn’t have the nerve to call and find out,” Zac replied.

“That’s understandable,” Ike replied. “You know if you need anything, I’ll be there. I dunno what Tay’s gonna have to say, but you know I’m behind you. If you need to get away, you can have our guest room.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Zac said, watching the houses roll by the window, knowing they were drawing nearer to his. His stomach turned nervous flip-flops at each house they passed by. Finally, they reached their destination. Isaac pulled into the driveway and at first, made no move to exit the car. Zac hopped out and began removing his luggage from the back. Just as he pulled the last duffel bag from the trunk, Isaac stepped out of the car and walked back to him.

“I mean it, you know. We’re here for you.”

Zac struggled to lift his bags. “I know. You said that.”

“Well, I mean it,” Isaac replied. “I don’t totally get what’s going on here, and I think you’re being an idiot about most of it, but you’re still my brother. I still gotta look out for you.”

“Yeah, okay,” Zac replied with a shrug. The conversation was nearly as awkward as the one he’d had with Taylor.

“Well, I just wanted you to know. I guess we’ll go now. Call if you need anything?”

Zac nodded and watched his brother step back into the car. As the car pulled away, Zac stood in the driveway just staring up at the house. Neither his nor Kate’s car were in the driveway, but that didn’t mean much. Either one of their vehicles could still be hiding in the garage.

While he stood contemplating the house, he saw the front door open. Kate stood in the doorway for a moment, her face void of emotion. She stepped back and closed the door again before Zac could say anything. Instead, he took his luggage in hand –- at least as much of it as he could lift in one go –- and shuffled to the door. 

Once he had carried it all inside, he took a moment to breathe and collect himself. He stood in the foyer of the house and realized that it looked and felt exactly the same. It was still the same old house. But he was different, and that made everything feel wrong. 

“I made dinner,” Kate called from the kitchen.

Zac sat down his luggage and headed back to the driveway to carry in the rest of it. Once it was all inside, he slipped off his shoes and took another look around. He could smell food in the air and although he still did not trust himself to not throw it back up, he knew he needed to eat more than just one burger. Walking to the kitchen, he saw Kate sitting at the island dishing out two large plates of food and another smaller plate which she sat in front of Shepherd in his high chair.

“It’s just one of those box dinner things. Lasagna,” Kate said, glancing up as Zac walked toward her.

He sat down at the counter and stared at the plate of food, then looked up at Kate. “This is weird. Isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Kate said, sighing as she sat down on the stool opposite Zac’s. “I didn’t know what time you would be home or if you’d even come here, but I heard the car pull in so I figured I ought to offer you some food, at least.”

“I appreciate the thought,” Zac replied, trying not to sound sarcastic. He really did mean it. “I didn’t think you would be here, though.”

“Where else am I going to go? This is still my house, too, at least for now.”

Zac took a few bites of his lasagna, buying himself a little time to think about his reply. “I know. Just didn’t think you’d want to be near me like this.”

“Part of me doesn’t. Part of me really doesn’t,” Kate replied. “But even if this thing is over, we’ve still shared so much and I don’t know… I don’t know how to just walk away yet.”

He nodded. “I know, I understand. It’s not like I’ve ever done this divorce thing before; I have no idea how this is supposed to go. I just wish it didn’t have to happen.”

“Me too, Zac,” Kate replied, her voice soft. As soon as the words had left her mouth, her eyes darted down to her plate and she kept her attention focused on it.

Zac took the hint and said nothing else, eating his dinner in silence. When they had all finished, he offered to wash the dishes while Kate put Shepherd to bed. He would have preferred to spend the time with his son, but he knew she’d appreciate not having to do the dishes. He could manage to do these little things, Zac thought. Why couldn’t he do the big things, the things that mattered, to keep this marriage together?

After he had scrubbed the worst of the dishes and stuffed them all into the dishwasher, he grabbed a few of his bags and headed upstairs. He realized he was actually quite exhausted and decided to leave the unpacking for the next day. He stood awkwardly in the bedroom, wondering if Kate would kick him out and expect him to sleep in one of the guest rooms or on the couch.

The soft sound of footsteps alerted him to Kate’s approach but he found himself too confused to move. She slipped up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, causing Zac to tremble.

“You can sleep here, at least for tonight,” Kate spoke, pressing her head against Zac’s shoulder. “Call it for old time’s sake or something.”

Zac stood frozen on the spot for a moment, completely unsure how to respond. He forced himself to relax against Kate’s touch and slowly turned to face her. Her eyes were full of sadness and he feared she might cry. It killed him to know it was his fault and there was no way to fix it. They’d gone too far to ever get back what they had.

But maybe — maybe just for that night, they could pretend.


	22. It’s Not The Calm Before The Storm

In the morning, Zac awoke to an empty bed. That was nothing new, but he had hoped it would be different this time. He thought he could smell the faint scent of freshly brewed coffee and wondered if maybe Kate were still somewhere in the house. 

Yet the house felt empty. Deserted. 

This was the feeling he had expected to come home to. Not the awkwardness of the night before. Slowly he pulled himself from the bed and redressed in the clothes he had strewn across the floor before climbing into bed with his wife. After a cup of coffee, if there were any left, he’d have time to unpack and maybe take a shower.

He stepped into Shepherd’s room only to find the crib empty and the covers neatly in place. A nervous feeling began to creep through Zac’s body. Maybe Shep was just downstairs with Kate, playing in his playpen or watching cartoons.

As he walked down the stairs, the nervous feeling did not subside. The house was too quiet, too still. He knew before he even reached the last step that he was alone. 

Entering the kitchen, Zac saw that the coffee pot was still half full. He poured himself a cup, not caring if it was warm or not. With the cup in hand, he walked to the living room and settled himself into the couch. He had to turn the television on and crank the volume up; the silence was too much to bear. 

Even the television’s droning could not keep his attention. He found nothing of interest in all the hundreds of channels Kate had insisted they needed. His coffee was entirely cold by the time he finished the last sip. Tossing the cup in the sink, he spent several minutes wandering aimlessly around the house. He had to find something to do. Something, anything to occupy his mind. He turned on a video game and played for a while, but the game was too easy and it bored him.

He began to pace the house again. He wondered where Kate had gone with Shepherd and when she would be back. Would she be back?

On his fourth lap around the downstairs, he glanced out the large living room window and saw the mailman’s car idling at the end of the driveway. Once the car had pulled away, Zac slipped on his shoes and walked outside. He fished through the mailbox, retrieving a large pile of letters. His parents had been taking care of picking up the mail, but he could see that a few days had accumulated – he supposed since Kate’s return.

Most of it was uninteresting – sales papers from grocery stores, advertisements for cell phone companies and the like. On the top of the stack, however, was a letter that made Zac’s heart sink. It was addressed to him from the Circuit Court of Tulsa County. 

This was what he had dreaded.

He ripped the letter open and scanned the text, tears clouding his vision. The words swum around the page; the worst of them – _divorce, adultery_ – stuck out like sore thumbs. There it was. The proof in black and white. How could he even debate it? It was the truth. 

He was an adulterer. 

Zac fell to his knees on the driveway, hardly feeling the gravel biting at his flesh. He tossed the letter down, not even wanting to look at it or acknowledge that it existed. It would have to be dealt with eventually, but he was a master at delaying the inevitable. For now, all he could do was sit in the driveway in a stupor.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when he saw, through his tears, Kate’s car coming up the road. With unsteady legs, he forced himself to stand and move into the grass. It was irrational, he knew, but he could not shake the vision of her running him over – for as much damage as her small car could really do.

But she didn’t.

Kate pulled the car to a stop just feet away from Zac and did her best to ignore him as she fetched Shepherd and several bags of groceries from the backseat. When it became obvious that she had more than she could carry, Zac walked toward the car and took several of the canvas shopping bags in his arms. 

With her back to Zac, Kate walked on toward the house – still seeming to do everything in her power to ignore him. Zac thought it was really a bit much. He realized their mail still lay scattered about the driveway, some of it no doubt crushed beneath the tires of her car. Following Kate into the house, he sat the groceries on the kitchen counter then turned to retrieve the mail.

As he gathered up the letters and walked back to the house, he pondered what he could even say to Kate. What else was left to be said? That letter had said it all. Despite one good night together, it was over. Beyond mending. 

When he returned to the kitchen, Kate’s head was bowed as she looked down into one of the canvas bags. His approach surprised her, he supposed, as she jumped and sent a can of peas rattling across the floor. It came to rest at Zac’s feet and he picked it up, surprised that it hadn’t burst. Returning the can the counter, he stared at Kate but did not speak.

“Zac.”

Their fingers brushed for just a second as Kate grasped the can of peas, and Zac realized that there were no sparks. No tingles ran through his body at her touch. He knew that didn’t mean anything – they were comfortable together, he didn’t need butterflies in his stomach to know how he felt about her. But the lack of any feeling at her touch only cemented that this was really happening. It was all coming to an end.

His voice barely above a whisper, Zac smirked and said, “You certainly didn’t waste any time, did you?”

Kate pulled away from his touch and turned to place the can in the pantry, along with a few others dug out from the bag. She was doing everything in her power to ignore him. She chucked some juice and yogurt into the refrigerator, then returned to the counter in front of Zac. She looked down into the canvas bags and frowned. Only a container of fried chicken remained. No more reason to avoid him.

She stared up at him, not speaking a word. Zac only stared back, an eyebrow raised as he awaited an answer to his question.

“Well?”

Kate frowned. “I don’t know what you want from me. You knew this was coming, okay? I had to get it over with before I lost my nerve.”

“Lost your nerve?” Zac asked, his eyebrows only raising further. 

“I never wanted this life. I mean, I never wanted this to end. To be divorced. I know it’s the right thing for us, but that doesn’t make it easy for me, okay?” 

“I dunno, Kate,” Zac replied, walking away from her. He couldn’t look at her when she tried so hard to look sad. He knew she probably wasn’t faking it – at least not all of it – but he couldn’t let himself be persuaded by it. “Sometimes it seems like it’s really easy for you. I mean, you’ve barely been home a week and you’ve already got this done and in the mail for me? In the mail, really?”

“That’s how the whole thing works, Zac! There’s this whole process we have to go through. Are you going to make it all this difficult?” Kate asked, her voice becoming shrill and almost breaking.

Zac sat down at the table and fiddled with the bowl of fake fruit sitting in the middle of it. He didn’t know how to reply. Was he making it difficult? It just _was_ difficult. Did she really think he wanted a divorce? So many questions he couldn’t answer, couldn’t even begin to ask, and squeezing the air out of the fake grapes certainly wasn’t getting him any closer to understanding. 

Kate slammed a plate down on the counter and it made Zac jump. He turned to look at her and found her tapping her fingers on the counter, frustration written across her face.

“Are you even going to answer me?”

“What the hell am I supposed to say?” He asked, standing up. “You really think I want this any more than you do? Or that I’m just, what – just trying to be an asshole? What, exactly, do you think I’m trying to accomplish by that?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know you at all anymore, okay?” Kate turned away from him and began angrily tossing pieces of chicken onto her plate. “You’re not the Zac I married.”

“Jesus Christ, I was 20 and stupid – what do you expect?” Zac yelled, taking a few steps toward her.

“So it was stupid to marry me?” Kate asked, her eyes wide. “It’s good thing I was already planning to leave you, because that – that right there, might have been the last straw otherwise.”

Zac rolled his eyes. “Oh for fuck’s sake, Kate! That’s not what I meant. Maybe it was. I don’t know! All I’m saying is _of course_ I’m not the same – how could I be? You’d be stupid to expect that I’d be the same guy.”

At the sound of Zac’s voice, Shepherd cried out from where he sat in the floor. He had been playing quietly with some toy, but the angry voices seemed to bother him. Zac felt a pang of guilt shoot through his body at the realization that they were arguing in front of him; he had always tried to keep Shepherd from seeing that side of his parents, even though he didn’t know how much his son would actually internalize or remember.

“Great job. Really, way to go,” Kate said, rolling her eyes. She abandoned her plate and scooped Shepherd up out the floor to soothe him, but her actions seemed to have no effect at all.

“Right, because it’s entirely my fault. Just like every other damn thing in the world,” Zac replied, throwing his hands up in disgust and walking away.

“Where the hell are you going?” Kate called out to Zac’s retreating figure.

He spun around. “What? You want me here, now? Really?”

“I didn’t say that either. But I’m not done with this conversation.”

“Well, that’s too bad,” Zac replied, stepping toward the counter and retrieving the letter. “Because I am.”

“And you get to decide when I’m done with it, too?” Kate asked, her face molded into a look of pure anger like Zac couldn’t remember seeing in years.

“I’m through with this, Kate. It’s over. We have the same argument over and over, and it always ends the same. And now it ends with this,” Zac replied, waving the letter in her face. “So yes, I’m done.”

Tucking the letter into his pocket, he strode out of the kitchen without looking back. He took the steps to their bedroom two at a time. He half expected Kate to follow and was surprised to reach the second floor without her on his heels. 

Without a second thought, he began tossing clothes into the open suitcase in the floor. He pulled shirts and pants off their hangers in the closet at random and piled them on the bed. From his dresser in the corner, he retrieved a handful of cds and movies, as well as a few notebooks filled with songs and drawings. That, along with everything he had yet to unpack, was all he needed for the time being. He stuffed the rest of the clothes and things into the suitcase and threw himself on top of it as he struggled with the zipper. 

Satisfied that it would stay zipped, he grabbed it by the handle and drug it down the hallway, then flung it down the stairs. He returned to the bedroom and picked up the rest of his duffel bags and sent them flying down the stairs as well. His guitar case he picked up carefully and wrapped over his shoulder. Retrieving his keys, wallet and cell phone from the nightstand, he was ready to go.

Not surprisingly, he found Kate standing at the bottom of the stairs amongst his luggage, their pouting son in her arms. 

“What in the hell are you doing?” Kate hissed.

“Leaving,” Zac replied as he bounded down the stairs. “Isn’t that obvious enough?”

“And where are you going?” 

He shrugged. “I don’t know. But I can’t be here and I know you don’t want me here. So just let me go. Get me out of your hair for a while until I’m out of it for good. Doesn’t that just sound fantastic?”

“No,” she replied softly, her eyes fixed on the floor.

“Well, it doesn’t to me either,” Zac replied, resisting the urge to reach out and touch her arm, or run his hand through her hair. In spite of himself, he wanted to comfort her. “But it’s where we are. It’s what this has come to.”

“I guess it is.”

He wanted to say _I’m sorry_ but the words would have fallen flat and meaningless between them. He knew that no amount of sorries would fix anything. It was a courtesy, a politeness, very nearly a lie and not a solution. So he didn’t say it. Instead, he plucked a few bags from the floor and carried them out to the garage and flung them into the backseat of his Tahoe. 

When he returned to the house to retrieve the second load of his luggage, Kate still stood staring at the pile. She looked quite helpless and for a moment it gave Zac pause. As he approached, her head raised slowly and she gave him a look of resignation. 

The battle was over, at least for that day. The letter in his pocket was a reminder, however, that the war would go on.

After tossing the suitcases into the SUV’s backseat, he settled into the driver’s seat. For a moment, he sat frozen. He realized that he hadn’t planned anything further than this exact moment. Zac fished his cell phone out of his pocket and thumbed through the contacts. Settling on Isaac’s name, he pressed “call.”

A few seconds later, he heard the click, followed by Isaac’s voice.

“Hello?”

“I think I may need your guest room after all.”


	23. The Same Old Phrase

Zac stubbornly stayed at Isaac and Nikki’s house for a little over a week. He knew he was being irrational, running away from his problems like Kate had always done. He wondered how she had felt all those times she walked out the door and left him. Somehow he doubted it was anything like he felt now — defeated and ready to see it all over.

He threw himself back into work at the record company office, finalizing the details for their membership kits and a few little concerts they had planned. It was the only thing that kept him distracted at all – doing absolutely mindless work on the business side of things. He tried to be creative too, working a bit on some paintings and sketches, but that let his mind wander too much and it always seemed to wander right to Spencer.

One day as he toiled away at his desk, Isaac wandered in cursing at his cell phone and informed Zac that they had to go back Nashville. There were some paperwork issues and things to clear up with the studio. It sounded like a lot of pointless red tape and he could tell Isaac wasn’t excited about it. Zac didn’t care what it was. The thought of going back there made his heart flutter in his chest, but not in an especially pleasant way.

He felt more and more like Kate in that moment – running as far from his problems as he could. The difference, he decided, was that he was running off to even bigger problems, and he barely cared at all.

Zac left the office early that afternoon, deciding he had every right to give himself a few hours off. That was the part he liked best about running the business – he could really do things the way he wanted. If he didn’t feel like working right then, he didn’t to. And if he felt like working in the office at 3 in the morning, well, he could do that too.

The drive back to Isaac’s house passed quickly, and when he walked in he was greeted by the spicy smell of something freshly baked. Kicking off his shoes and walking into the kitchen, he saw Nikki sitting at the table with Everett and a large plate of cookies.

“I made ginger snaps. You want one?” Nikki asked, holding out the plate.

Zac nodded and picked one up. He realized he hadn’t eaten a single thing the entire day; he had been too wrapped up in working to even think about it. He shoved the entire cookie in his mouth at once, then walked to the refrigerator to find something more substantial to follow it.

The phone rang as he pulled out some ham and a fresh tomato. He paid it no mind – it wasn’t his house, after all – and went about slicing the tomato. He tried not to pay attention to the one end of the conversation which he could hear, though he could tell just by the tone of her voice that Nikki wasn’t very pleased about it.

Zac felt Nikki tap him on the shoulder and he spun around, still holding a slice of tomato in his hand.

“It’s Kate.”

He sighed and tossed the tomato back onto the counter, wiping his hands off on his pants before taking the phone from her hand. Bracing himself with a few deep breaths, he walked out of the kitchen and into the hallway, where he hoped to have a bit of privacy. It wasn’t that he expected Nikki to eavesdrop, but he didn’t really want her or Everett to hear whatever sort of fight might happen.

Slowly, he put the phone to his ear. “Katie?”

“Umm, Zac… hi. Nat called. She said you and Ike were going back to Nashville.”

How did Natalie know before he did? Zac didn’t even bother asking, just shook his head at the way nothing ever managed to stay secret in their family.

“Yeah, we’re leaving the day after tomorrow… why?”

“Well, I figured you would need some things from the house and I just wanted to let you know that Shep and I will be gone tomorrow afternoon if you want to come over and pick anything up,” Kate replied, barely pausing to breathe between the words.

“I’m not trying to avoid you forever.”

“It certainly feels that way,” Kate replied.

Zac knew it was coming. He knew they wouldn’t be able to get through a conversation without arguing at least a bit. He really didn’t want to go through it again. He didn’t have the patience or the will to drag himself through yet another fight.

He sighed. “Look, I’m not. I just needed some space. And what does it matter anyway if I’ll be out of your life entirely soon?”

“Not entirely… for God’s sake, we still have a son, Zac.”

“I’m well aware of that, actually. What, do you think I’m going to just forget about him? Or that I don’t care about him? I just mean, we’re going to be divorced soon so what does it matter if I’m not living with you right now?” 

“Fine. Fine, okay,” Kate said with a sigh, sounded resigned to give up the fight for once. “Just… if there’s anything you need, we’ll be out of the house tomorrow, maybe around two. Come by then.”

“Okay, fine,” Zac replied, barely realizing that he was talking to the dial tone.

****

The next day, Zac didn’t bother going into the office at all. Instead, he slept in late and woke up with just enough time to do his laundry – something he really didn’t mind doing after so many years on the road taking care of himself – and get the guest room cleaned up. He didn’t have too much to pack, considering he hadn’t brought very much to Isaac’s house with him. 

What he had brought, he packed quickly and tossed into the back of Isaac’s car in preparation for their trip to Nashville. With that done, he got into his car and drove himself across town to his house. Knowing that Kate wouldn’t be there gave him some relief, but he also regretted that he wouldn’t be able to say goodbye to Shepherd. Still, he knew that the packing would be easier without her hovering over his shoulder the entire time.

When he pulled into the driveway and let himself into the house, he was quite relieved to see that Kate was, as she had promised, not there. The house was still and quiet, and he could wander around it with ease. He went to the bedroom first and gathered up some fresh clothes – he felt like he had worn the same three or four shirts for the past month. He straightened up the mess he had left in the closet last time, wondering why Kate hadn’t seemed to have done a thing about it. 

Once the bedroom looked a bit better than he had left it, he wandered down the hallway to Shepherd’s room. He didn’t know why; it just seemed like the next logical place to go. The shades were open and sunlight filtered into the room, making Zac shade his eyes a bit until they adjusted. Not surprisingly, the room was empty. 

Zac stood in the middle of the room, feeling ridiculous. He didn’t know what he had hoped to find. There was nothing in his son’s empty nursery to provide him any kind of solace. He sighed and sank down to the floor. He felt silly. He sighed and let his head sink down into his hands. 

“Zac?”

He turned slowly but did not stand. Kate leaned against the door frame, clutching a very tired looking Shepherd to her side. She looked exhausted and for a moment Zac wanted to volunteer to watch Shepherd for a while, but thought better of it. He doubted Kate even wanted him in the house at all. He realized she was still staring at him, waiting for an answer to the implied question.

“I got distracted? I was trying to pack and I just… I dunno. Distracted,” he managed to reply, not sure it really made any sense.

“By Shep’s room?” Kate asked, stepping past him to place their son in his crib. 

Zac stood and walked to Kate’s side, reaching down to help her tuck Shepherd into the covers. Their hands brushed and for a moment Zac didn’t want to move his. A tiny spark of feeling passed through him, but went quickly and left him feeling empty. They could force it, but things wouldn’t ever be the same. He pulled away from Kate and brushed his hand through Shepherd’s hair, smiling at the way he giggled.

“Katie,” he said, turning to look at her. She kept her eyes fixed downward. “How did we get here?”

“I’ve been trying to answer that question,” she admitted, then looked him in the eyes. “This has been a long time coming, though, hasn’t it?”

He nodded. “I guess it has. And I can’t see a way out of it either. Or a way back into it, if you want to look at it that way.”

“Would you even want that?” she asked and for once Zac could see a real vulnerability in her eyes.

Zac pulled Kate to him. “If it could be good, yeah. But can it? Can it really? You said yourself that I’m not the same as I was and I don’t think you are either. We grew up, Katie. We can’t keep trying to be who we were at 16 or 18.”

“I think I’m all out of try anyway,” Kate whispered and pressed her head to Zac’s chest, a tiny sob escaping, only to be nearly muffled by his shirt. “God, what have we done? What about our baby, Zac?”

He sighed into her hair. “I don’t know. We’ve still got him, you know? Something good out of this mess. We’ll do what’s best for him. I don’t doubt that, I just don’t know what it is yet.”

“It’s just all so confusing. I wish this didn’t have to happen at all,” Kate said, pulling back to wipe away her tears.

“I know. Me too,” Zac replied, instinctively reaching up to caress the side of her face, rubbing away the tracks of tears. “I’m sorry I can’t be who you want. I’m so sorry I’ve gotten us this far away from okay. I’m just… sorry.”

The apology seemed to stun Kate for a moment, as though she had maybe thought he wasn’t sorry. Zac realized that he really had no clue what she was thinking through this entire situation. Did she really see him as such a horrible person that he could cheat with no remorse at all? He wouldn’t have been angry if she did; he almost saw himself that way.

“I’m sorry too,” she whispered and placed a gentle kiss against his cheek. “For all of this.”

Kate turned away from Zac then and gave one last look to Shepherd before walking out of the room. He stood in place for a second, not wanting to feel, or make her feel, as though he were following her. She had left him stunned, too, and he took a moment to replay her last actions in his head just to believe they had been real.

Placing his own soft kiss to Shepherd’s forehead, he walked out of the room. 

The house was silent again, but he knew Kate had not left. The feel of her there, the feel of what had passed between them, seemed to linger in the air. He could just feel that she was still there, waiting for her last chance to see him before he was gone. He did not go looking for her, however, only carried his baggage to the car in silence.

As he tossed the last bag in and shut the car door, he heard the slam of the house’s door and turned to see Kate walking toward him. Her steps looked determined, although her face wavered.

When she reached him, they stood inches apart in silence, each one trying to find just the right last words. 

“When will you be back?” Kate finally asked.

“We’re just going for a few days,” he said. “When we get back… you and me can start sorting all this out, okay?”

Kate nodded. “You think we’ll be okay?”

“I think we’ll be better off. Okay might take a while. Whatever we do now has to be better than what we’ve been doing, right?” 

“Yeah,” Kate said, taking a step closer to him and tentatively grasping his hand. “I just wish… I don’t know. I guess it’s too late for wishes.”

“It probably is, but we’ll get through this. We owe each other that. I owe _you_ that much. I’ll make this as right as I can,” Zac said.

Not knowing what else to do, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and over quickly, but that seemed for the best. It was just a hollow ghost of what used to be there, of the affection that Zac could almost remember them sharing. He hoped he could hold to his promises. He hoped there was a good ending out there somewhere for them.


	24. History Books Forgot About Us

The next two weeks seemed to pass by at a crawl for Spencer. The one redeeming feature was the pleasant review her advising committee had given her thesis. Their full commentary would not be coming for several more weeks, but she was content to know that they considered her first year of graduate work successful. It did not completely ease her mind, but it gave her a small respite from the other major stress plaguing her.

When that particular Tuesday morning came, Spencer woke early and took her time getting ready. Whether it was from the early physical effects of the pregnancy or just her uneasiness about the entire situation, she had continued to feel ill since taking the test. The only thing she could manage to eat for breakfast was a piece of plain toast washed down with water. Still, that small meal seemed to fill her stomach completely. 

The feeling did not subside as the morning went on, and she was certain she could blame that on the appointment she was beginning to dread. She opted to take a bus to the Planned Parenthood where Abbey had scheduled the appointment, and the entire ride there it seemed as though everyone was staring at her. Spencer had to keep reminding herself that they did not all know her secret. None of them knew. They couldn’t know. They were not all silently judging her, she reassured herself.

When she stepped off the bus onto the sidewalk, Spencer sighed audibly. She could not bring herself to lift her eyes and look at the sign above the door. She knew it was silly to be so adamant about ignoring the reality. She knew that only made it worse. Yet her stubbornness seemed to know no limits.

Finally shoving the door open, she found herself assaulted by the antiseptic smell that all doctor’s offices seemed to have. The room was mostly empty, except for a few other women who looked to be about Spencer’s age. None of these women could judge her, Spencer thought. They were probably here for the same thing. The thought provided little comfort, however.

With only a few words exchanged, Spencer took the required paperwork from the women at the front desk. She tried to avoid eye contact as much as possible, and the desk clerk seemed too busy to care who Spencer was at all or pass any sort of judgment on her. Paperwork in hand, Spencer sat down to fill out the forms. It was the usual medical background sort of thing at first, followed by more in depth questions about her sexual history. She tried not to blush as she filled in all the blanks, providing the most accurate account she could. Her first few years of college, before dating Daniel, had provided plenty of explicit anecdotes for her to tell, but she didn’t feel quite as ready to put that history down on paper.

After taking several minutes to be sure all the information was correct, Spencer returned the paperwork to the desk and sat down to wait. It was the waiting that killed her. Under the best of circumstances, she was not patient. She could think of few circumstances worse than the one she currently found herself in. Part of her wished things had gone differently with Daniel so that she could have invited him along as moral support – but convincing him this was his fault would have been even worse than telling Zac. She knew that, but the thought still plagued her.

The wait seemed to drag on forever. Eventually, she pulled a book out of her purse and began reading it. It was just a cheap paperback she had picked up a few days before to celebrate the end of her required reading for the semester, and it did little to hold her attention. She had just given up on reading when a voice over an intercom called out her name.

A nurse stood just on the other side of the door, and guided Spencer toward an examination room. She took Spencer’s vitals while making small talk about the weather. Spencer answered her questions with as much enthusiasm and interest as she could muster, which didn’t amount to much at all.

“Alright, now just put this gown on and the doctor will be in shortly,” the nurse said with a cheery smile. “And of course, you’ll need to take everything off.”

Spencer nodded, trying not to show her disdain for the nurse’s cheerfulness. She slipped behind the curtain in the corner of the room and wiggled out of her sundress – the only thing she could find that didn’t seem to cling to the baby bump she knew wasn’t really there yet – and into the itchy paper gown. The gown seemed as though it would wrap around her two or three times and the small paper tie did nothing to keep it in place. She finally conceded defeat and shoved all the extra gown under her as she took up her seat on the examination table. She continued to fiddle with the gown for a few minutes before a soft knock came at the door. 

“Are we decent in here?” a soft female voice called out from the other side of the door.

“As decent as I’ll ever be, I guess,” Spencer replied.

The door opened and a short woman with graying hair walked in, clutching a clipboard to her chest. She grabbed a rolling chair and sat down in it, looking up at Spencer with something that looked a lot like pity. 

“You’re Spencer Kerr, correct?” the doctor asked. “I’m Dr. McCarty.”

Spencer nodded. “Yup, that’s me.”

Dr. McCarty adjusted her glasses and looked Spencer straight in the eyes. “Now, I’m not here to lecture you. You’re old enough, I think, to understand what you are getting yourself into here. I will give you some of our literature to look through after we do the ultrasound, and if at any point you have second thoughts, let me know.”

“I definitely know what I’m doing,” Spencer replied, trying to keep her eyes fixed on the doctor. “I got mixed up on my birth control and I guess… I guess that kept it from being effective. Whatever happened, happened. But I’m not at a point in my life where I can do this. I’m still in college, working on a doctorate… I just can’t do this.”

“It isn’t uncommon for the pill to fail like that, if not taken properly,” Dr. McCarty replied. “In the future, I’m sure you’ll be certain to be more careful about taking it, and using other methods of protection as well, yes?”

“Absolutely. I’m not going through this again,” Spencer said.

“Good. Always be sure you’ve taken the right precautions,” Dr. McCarty replied, making a few notes on her clipboard. “Now, did your boyfriend or anyone come here with you for support?”

Spencer shook her head, finally finding herself unable to maintain eye contact. “He’s uh… he’s not here, no. He couldn’t be. He’s not in any position to support me through this, though. I mean, to support me through a pregnancy. It’s not a good time for either of us to have a kid.”

Dr. McCarty nodded knowingly, but held her tongue. “Alright, well. Let’s get started with the ultrasound and see how far along you are. From there we can be sure what our options are.”

Spencer nodded, finding herself unable to speak anymore. She feared if she opened her mouth again, the entire truth of her situation would come pouring out. She lay back on the table and closed her eyes, struggling to pay attention to Dr. McCarty’s instructions while also trying to tune out everything around her. She was thankful that she could not see the ultrasound screen and could close herself off from the whole experience. In what seemed to be only a matter of seconds, Dr. McCarty declared the ultrasound finished. She handed Spencer a few pamphlets before walking out the door.

Her head was spinning almost too much to even read the pages in front of her. They described, in quite detailed terms, all of her options for abortion. She had already spent several hours scouring the internet for similar information and knew full well what to expect. The literature also gave her options for adoption, birth control, family planning and several other related issues that she didn’t even want to think about it. The “family planning” flyer made her the most uneasy. She was thankful that the doctor seemed so willing to trust her judgment without truly knowing the situation she was in.

Spencer briefly wondered what it would be like to tell Zac about all this. She had a feeling the conversation would not go well. It seemed much, much easier not to put such a burden on him. It was easier to keep this to herself. Once it was over, she did not need anyone, least of all Zac, to ever know.

A knock at the door announced Dr. McCarty’s return. 

“Come on in,” Spencer called out toward the door.

Dr. McCarty shuffled back into the room, a few papers in her hand. She took up her seat once again and rolled it in front of the examination table to face Spencer head on.

“Alright, dear,” the doctor began, clearing her throat. “It looks like you are four weeks along. That means your only option right now is a medical abortion, meaning a series of pills that are going to induce a miscarriage. Is that what you would like to do?”

Spencer nodded. “That would be best, I think.”

Dr. McCarty nodded, then rolled her chair to a cabinet and began digging around in it. She rolled the chair back to Spencer a few moments later, another stack of papers in one hand and a small measuring cup containing a few pills in the other.

“There are certainly side effects to this method. I want to be sure you understand that,” Dr. McCarty said, handing Spencer the papers.

“I understand, I’ve read up on it,” Spencer replied, flipping through the papers that listed a wealth of instructions and side effects.

“Okay. Well, you’ll begin with these two pills now,” Dr. McCarty said, handing Spencer the measuring cup. “You’ll follow it up with four more later, spaced out over the next day or two, two pills at a time. The side effects won’t be pleasant, but you should experience significantly less pain than labor, perhaps the same amount as a natural miscarriage or as little as a few cramps.”

Nodding along with the doctor’s speech, Spencer stared down into the cup. Just two pills now and a few more later. Then it would be over. When Dr. McCarty finished her speech, she turned her chair to the sink behind her and filled another, larger cup with water, handing that to Spencer as well.

For a moment, Spencer could do nothing more than stare down at the cups in her hands. Perhaps the gravity of it all was finally catching up to her. She couldn’t say for sure. Was it regret? Fear? That was silly, and she knew it. She could not, would not, go through with this. She could not carry Zac’s child.

With that thought in mind, she tipped the cup back and poured the two small pills into her mouth, washing them down with the entire cupful of water. It made her cough a little and she grasped at the sides of the table to steady herself again. She always did hate swallowing pills, but she supposed it was better than the other option. 

“That should do it, then. You can stay in here for a few minutes if you’re not feeling well, but the side effects shouldn’t really kick in until you take the second dose,” Dr. McCarty said, standing up to dig through the cabinets again. 

Spencer twisted the paper gown around in her fingers, listening as Dr. McCarty once again rattled off the list of expected side effects. This was it. No going back now. At least now if she had any doubts, she couldn’t act on them. 

“Here are the other pills,” Dr. McCarty said, handing Spencer a nearly empty pill bottle. “You’ll take these as I’ve said, two at a time. The instructions are all very clear in the documentation I gave you. You’ll need to make a follow-up appointment at the front desk just so we can be sure everything worked as it should.”

Spencer nodded, accepting the pill bottle and clutching it tightly in her hand. She looked back up at the doctor and offered her the closest thing she had to a smile. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“You’re welcome, dear,” Dr. McCarty said, returning the smile, hers much more genuine. “And I hope, after the follow-up appointments, I won’t have to see you again.”


	25. What A Fool You Have Made Me

Spencer read the paperwork obsessively. She needed to soak in every word of it and know it all by heart. Somehow that made her feel better about the situation – that she was in control of everything and knew exactly what she was doing to herself. Now that it was really happening, she needed to know the details. The dull ache growing in the pit of her stomach told her that this was real. She could not ignore what she was doing to herself, to her… no. She couldn’t think of it that way. It was a mistake and nothing else.

The next day, Spencer allowed herself the indulgence of sleeping in late. She figured that after all she was going through, it was the least she could do for herself. She slept more soundly than she even expected, and did not hear Abbey leave for work.

She spent most of the day sitting on their couch, forcing herself to drink tea and watching horrible soap operas and reruns. She took the second two pills as directed and kept her fingers crossed that the side effects would stay manageable. It was only when she realized it was nearing six o’clock that Spencer began to contemplate eating anything. She knew she needed to. The side effects would only worsen if she kept up her unconscious habit of starving herself. 

With the thought in mind that maybe, just maybe, she would feel normal again soon, she shuffled to the kitchen to find something that might not upset her stomach any further. A quick look through the cabinets assured her that the only sure thing was plain bow tie pasta. Everything else sounded thoroughly unappetizing and she hardly had the energy to really cook anything anyway.

While waiting for the water to boil, Spencer flipped through the mail on the counter and pulled out a few envelopes from Netflix. That was just the thing she needed, given that she’d already exhausted their movie collection. With her work done for the summer and no other plans for the evening, she felt perfectly justified in sitting on the couch watching movies and feeling sorry for herself. If Abbey had a problem with that – well, she really didn’t care exactly what Abbey thought, Spencer told herself. She needed a break.

Once her pasta had cooked, she dipped out a small plate of it sprinkled a bit of salt and pepper on top so it might not taste so much like eating cardboard. With the plate in hand, she grabbed the envelope containing Iron Man and walked back to the couch. The movie was mindless enough that she wouldn’t have to think very much about it or get too emotional – a nice change from all the dramas she had been watching recently. Popping it into the dvd player, she settled into the couch and let out a long sigh. 

The next few days were going to be very long, Spencer realized. And she wasn’t entirely sure she could handle it. 

Just as the opening credits began to play, the door swung open and Abbey strode in, her arms loaded down with take out containers. Spencer picked up the distinct scent of Chinese food and her stomach lurched at the thought of it. 

“Good news, I got done at work early tonight. And I got take out!” Abbey said as she carefully sat down on the couch and placed her tower of paper boxes on the coffee table.

Spencer shook her head. “I’m not really that hungry. I probably won’t even be able to keep this food down.”

“The appointment was that bad, huh?” Abbey asked. “Sorry, I came in late last night and you were already in bed or I would have checked on how you were doing.”

“No, it wasn’t – I mean, it was awkward of course. But about as painless as it could be, at least for now. It’ll probably get worse, though,” Spencer replied.

Abbey nodded. “You can get through it, though. I’ve got faith in you. I really wish I could stay here with you, but we’ve got this club opening thing I have to go to pretty much as soon as I finish eating.”

“That’s okay. I don’t really mind doing this alone. It seems… fitting, I guess,” Spencer replied, pushing a piece of pasta around the plate with her fork.

“So you don’t think I’m a total douchebag for leaving you here alone?”

“No, of course not! You have to work; I get that,” Spencer said, offering Abbey a smile to reassure her.

“Okay, well are you sure you don’t want any food? Come on, I bought plenty for both of us,” Abbey said, digging into a box of fried rice.

“I’m pretty sure the only thing I could handle right now would be a fortune cookie,” Spencer replied.

Abbey fished through her purse and pulled out a handful of plastic-wrapped fortune cookies. She offered them to Spencer with a huge smile.

“I flirted with the cashier. Here, take as many as you want.”

She picked a fortune cookie out of Abbey’s hand and ripped it open. She cracked the cookie apart and pulled out the slip of paper, turning it over to see what was written.

_You will receive an important phone call soon._

Spencer frowned. What kind of a fortune was that? 

“What did you get? Mine is, ‘Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it,’” Abbey said.

Spencer shook her head and crumpled up the fortune. “Nothing. Nothing important at all. Just one of the silly ones.”

She shoved the cookie in her mouth and ignored the feeling of nausea as she chewed it. Standing, she stumbled out of the room without a word to Abbey. Knowing that she had to take the last round of pills soon only worsened the effect that the smell of take out was having on her. She grabbed the pill bottle and an empty glass from her nightstand, then hurried to the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

Closing her eyes tightly, Spencer popped the pills in her mouth and washed them down with a big sip of water. That was it. The end. If she could make it through the last of the side effects, she would be fine. This part would be the worst, she knew, but at least the end was in sight.

With that thought in mind, Spencer sank to the floor to wait it out. She began to count the tiles in the floor, idly pondering how long it had been since they’d given the bathroom a good cleaning. A knock at the door made her jump a little.

“Spence?” 

It was Abbey. Of course it was Abbey. Who else could it be? 

“Yeah?”

The door opened just enough for part of Abbey’s face to become visible. “You gonna be okay, girly?”

“I’ll do my best,” Spencer replied, sighing. 

“I have to leave now. I wish I didn’t, you know I want to stay here and help you through this,” Abbey said, her voice full of remorse.

Spencer nodded, then realized that Abbey probably couldn’t quite see the movement. “I know, honey. It’s okay. I can make it through this, I promise.”

Evidently her response didn’t reassure Abbey enough, as the door flew wide open and Abbey fell to the floor into front of Spencer. She scooped Spencer up into a giant hug and held her close and sighed, not saying anything at all.

“I’ll be fine, Abs. This isn’t the end of everything. So it’ll suck for a while, but I’ll live.”

“You swear?”

“I swear.”

At that, Abbey finally loosened her grip on Spencer and stood. “I’ll be back in a couple hours, but you’ll probably be in bed by then. I’ll check on you if you want, if it’s not super late. Here’s your phone if you need me; don’t you dare hesitate to call.”

Spencer nodded again, taking the phone from Abbey’s hand. With one last, small smile Abbey took her leave of the room, gently pulling the door closed behind her.

With Abbey gone, Spencer allowed herself to sink back down to the floor. It was a gradual process and she barely noticed it was happening until she was curled up in a ball on the bathmat. She decided it would be the perfect place to sleep. She didn’t want or need to move at all. All she wanted was just to stay curled up nice and comfortable on the rug. Pain was beginning to seep through her body, radiating out from just below her stomach and she shut her eyes tight to brace herself against it. Maybe if she kept her eyes closed longer, she could sleep…

A strange buzzing noise caught Spencer’s attention. Through the haze of her dreams she wondered what the noise could be. It seemed to grow louder, ending in a deep thud right near her head. Spencer shuddered as the sound roused her from her sleep. Her eyes fluttering open, she saw the source of the noise.

Her cell phone. 

The phone lay in the floor just inches from Spencer’s head and she reasoned that the thud must have been it falling from the counter. For a moment, the buzzing ceased and Spencer felt her headache begin to ease off as well. Just as soon as that thought crossed her mind, the phone began to buzz again. She watched as it wiggled around the floor but made no move to answer it. When she was certain it must be about to go to voicemail, she reached her arm out and picked it up.

_2 missed calls – Zac._

The fortune cookie’s message flashed through Spencer’s mind and she cursed aloud. No. This was not an important phone call. This was a phone call she need not answer. Yet, when the screen lit up again, she could not deny the feeling tugging at her chest. Reluctantly, she flipped the phone open.

“…Hello?”

“Spencer?”

“Zac.”

“You didn’t forget me,” he said, and Spencer could picture his silly grin as he said it.

“I was only drunk the first time,” she replied. Slowly, she rolled over onto her back, wondering how she could have thought the floor was a comfortable place to sleep at all, yet finding herself unable to move off of it. “Why… why are you calling me?”

“You said I didn’t have to lose your number and I… well, I don’t think I could have lost it anyway. Not without really regretting it,” Zac said, his voice soft and gentle.

“That’s not really an explanation for why you’re calling me now, though,” Spencer remarked.

“I know, but I…” Zac trailed off, and Spencer could hear the hesitation and sadness in his voice. “Look, I’m back in Nashville now and I just thought, it’s been a few weeks and maybe…”

“Maybe I’d want to see you again?”

“I had to hope.”

Spencer winced as a sharp pain coursed through her abdomen and she tried not to curse loud enough for him to hear. She shut her eyes tight and waited for the pain to subside.

“Spencer? Did you – are you still there?” Zac stuttered out.

She sighed. “I’m still here. Sorry. I don’t know about seeing you again, Zac. Do you really think it’s a good idea?”

“Well, it’s at least not as bad of an idea as it used to be,” he replied.

“What makes you say that?” Spencer asked, griping her stomach as another cramp ripped through it.

There was a pause, as though Zac was grasping for the right words. Spencer slowly pulled herself out of the floor, clutching the side of the tub to support her weight. With difficulty, she made it to the sink and grabbed her glass to refill it with water while she waited for his reply.

“She left me. Kate left me. I mean, she really left. I’ve got the divorce papers and everything, and I’ve been staying with Ike.”

The glass fell from Spencer’s shaky hand and clattered around the sink. She tried to process what he had just said, and could not get it all through her head. 

“Why are you in Nashville now anyway?” she asked, thinking it was perhaps the simplest of the questions that were plaguing her mind.

“Just to finalize some stuff with the studio here. It’s just me and Ike this time; Tay’s off doing some stuff with his other band. It’s just a couple days of boring meetings with recording people and producers and stuff.”

“Oh. Okay,” Spencer replied, still finding herself flabbergasted. She fumbled around the sink to pick up the cup and refill it once again. “And you… she’s gone? I mean, she’s not with you?”

“No, no she’s not. Kate won’t be near me at all now. I’m not being dramatic here, I’m telling you it’s over. Me and Kate are over,” Zac said.

“And that’s a good enough reason to see me again? Just because you can now without –” Spencer winced as another pain coursed through her body, and grasped the countertop to brace herself. “Without it being some secret, clandestine thing? You’re still married, aren’t you? Just because you’ve got some letter in the mail doesn’t make this any less wrong.”

“That’s not – I’m not saying that!” Zac yelped, then paused a moment before continuing more calmly, “I just mean that – well, we don’t have to be so secretive now because I know it’s over. Because I have no obligation to try to make it work and be a good husband now.”

“Zac, just because it makes you feel better about all this doesn’t mean I feel the same. I can’t just… It’s not that easy for me to feel okay about being with you.”

“But you wanted it, didn’t you?” Zac asked meekly. “You wanted me.”

“That doesn’t really matter, okay? I know I said we should just give in, but I was wrong. This is wrong. Whether you’re married or not, we are wrong, Zac.”

Spencer took a long sip of her water while she waited for Zac to process her words. She looked at herself in the mirror and saw her face was pale and her eyes looked more tired than she’d ever seen before. She looked like herself, but faded. A ghost.

“Just see me one last time?”

At those words, she fell to the floor again, landing with a thud in front of the sink. She winced at the pain of that for a moment, but was almost glad for the temporary distraction from the other pains. 

“That may be the worst idea you’ve ever had.”

“Please?”

Spencer sighed. “The day after tomorrow. Are you busy?”

“Not in the evening,” Zac replied. “So you will?”

“Did you really have to question it?”

Rather than answer the question, Zac simply said, “Meet me at the studio? Just… just out in front of it. Say around seven.”

“Yeah, sure,” Spencer replied. “I’ll see you then.”

“Okay, I’ll see you…” Zac trailed off and Spencer thought he might have more to say, but she was met only with silence.

Spencer let the phone fall out of her hand, feeling too exhausted to even pick it up. She curled up on her side and decided to nap just a bit longer in the floor. Maybe when she woke, she would feel better. Maybe when she woke, the nightmare would be over. She would be free, and she could look Zac in the face without feeling guilt written all over hers.


	26. Brings Me Back To You

Zac felt like a really bad version of James Bond or some other spy. Not that he was any good at being sneaky and stealthy – the fact that he’d gotten caught with Spencer more than once was proof of that. Maybe he wanted to be caught. It wasn’t like he didn’t know what he was doing was all kinds of wrong. It wasn’t like he didn’t feel crushed under the guilt of it.

Did he even need to hide anymore? Something told him yes. He still wore the ring around his neck – rarely on his finger these days because then he’d have to look at it. Then it would be there every time his hand brushed across Spencer’s face… not that his hand did that very often, and maybe it wouldn’t ever again, but he couldn’t risk it. He couldn’t risk having that silver reminder of his infidelity so visible, at least not to himself.

He still didn’t know how he had managed to sneak away from Isaac. He supposed he was just lucky that Ike wanted to go out drinking. Sure, he drank too, and quite a bit lately. But it was easy enough, maybe too easy, to convince Isaac that he just wasn’t up for drinks at some seedy bar. In the back of his mind, Zac figured that Ike knew where he was going, who he would be going to see. His brother wasn’t stupid, after all.

They weren’t actually recording this time and Zac didn’t have the key to Rennie’s studio anymore, so he sat outside on a bench to wait for Spencer. He pulled out his iPod and put it on shuffle, but it kept coming up with sad songs. He’d skip ahead to the next one and find it was even worse than the last. When it fixed itself on “Hallelujah,” Zac muttered a string of curse words and yanked the earbuds out, giving up entirely on having music to listen to while he waited.

If he believed in signs, he would have figured that was a big, neon billboard-sized hint.

He sat on the bench for ages and began to wonder if Spencer were blowing him off. He almost wished she did. At least then he would know for sure what to make of her. He’d know then that there was no hope. That she truly had no feelings for him. 

But he knew he couldn’t convince himself of that. Not until he had seen her. Not until those words had come out of her mouth. 

Just when he was beginning to really believe she wasn’t coming, he saw Spencer’s figure headed up the street. Even in the oncoming dusk, her hair stood out, its hue similar to the orange in the sunset. He stuffed his iPod into his pocket and stood, trying not to look too awkward or fidgety as he watched her approach.

“Hey you,” Spencer said, her voice softer than Zac thought he had ever heard it. 

Her eyes looked tired and they sported dark circles underneath. He wanted to reach out and hug her, but something held him back. It wouldn’t have been right, somehow. Still, despite his confident words on the phone, he felt too guilty to be bold.

“Hey, Spence.. how have you been?” Zac asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets and holding himself as steady as he could.

Spencer ducked her head down and nibbled her lip a bit. “I’m… I’m fine. Been busy lately, but my semester’s over now… which is a very good thing.”

“So you’ve got the rest of the summer free, then?” Zac asked.

“Yeah, I guess so… I’m not teaching any summer classes, so I’m pretty much free. No professors breathing down my neck at least,” she replied, trying to smile a little bit but only just managing to twist her mouth into a wry grin.

“That’s really good, isn’t it?” Zac replied, finally giving in and reaching out to brush his fingertips across her arm. “I don’t even know what it would be like to be totally free of any commitments.”

“You’re here on business again, huh?” Spencer asked, unconsciously flinching at Zac’s touch.

He nodded. “Yup. Just some stupid red tape and stuff, though. I don’t know, some stuff we didn’t get sorted out when we were here before. Some of the people we work with, I swear they don’t know their heads from their assholes… but anyway, I’ve got tonight off at least.”

“And you wanted to see… me.” 

It wasn’t a question. Zac could tell it wasn’t a question. There was no doubt about what his answer would have been. But there was another question, one she had left unsaid. _Why_ did he want to see her? Didn’t she know the answer to that, too? He contemplated his answer for a moment, and pulled her off the sidewalk to lean against the building. He needed to brace himself if she wanted to have this conversation.

“It’s just me and Ike here this time… he’s off listening to some jazz or something, drinking himself stupid. It’s boring anyway, just me and him here, and I… well, yeah I wanted to see you. Why not? Is that such a horrible thing to want?”

Spencer clutched at the side of the building, the bricks scraping her fingers as she tried to find anything, anything at all that wasn’t Zac, to hold herself up. “Isn’t it? We can’t… we can’t keep doing this.”

“Look, this is the first night I’m set free, really,” Zac said, trying not to reveal the strain in his voice. “This is all new to me, dealing with this… this divorce stuff. I just need you here, just this one time… I’m not asking anything more of you than I’ve asked before.”

“I’m being difficult. I know I am. I’m… I’m sorry. But I still can’t give you all you want,” Spencer replied.

“That’s why I’m not asking for it.”

Spencer nodded softly as she brushed her hands off on her pants and held them out to Zac. “Can we go somewhere else then? Just somewhere… I need to sit down, I think.”

“We can go back to my hotel? Ike won’t be back… not until late. It’s not far from here. Close to your college, I guess,” Zac offered, taking Spencer’s hands gently in his own.

“Because it isn’t dangerous at all for us to be alone together,” Spencer replied, twisting her face into a grin in the hopes of at least making him laugh.

“I didn’t mean… we can just talk. I promise,” Zac replied, letting go of her hands and holding his up in the air. He returned her grin, his coming easier and more genuine.

“Okay, okay. Hail us a taxi and let’s go do this. It’s only our lives we’re ruining, after all,” Spencer said.

The cab ride was awkwardly silent. She sat far away from him and leaned her head back against the seat, closing her eyes and sighing deeply. Zac inched closer to her and tentatively placed his arm over her shoulder, not to pull her to him but just to let her know he was there. He could tell she needed something and he was certain he wasn’t it, but he couldn’t stop himself from trying.

Within minutes they arrived at the hotel. Spencer kept silent as she followed him through the posh lobby and up the elevator to the suite. It wasn’t the fanciest hotel in Nashville, but the décor was pretentious and quite fitting to a pair of musicians, Spencer thought.

“Make yourself at home…” Zac said softly, ushering Spencer into the room, feeling that he practically needed to grasp her arm and pull her in before she thought better of the whole thing and ran.

Spencer nodded and sat on the edge of the couch, glancing around at the room. It felt so strange and delicate, like she needed to not touch anything and leave no trace at all. She’d been so brazen before that she wanted to try not existing at all now. Zac wandered away, returning a few moments later with a beer in each hand. 

“Ike picked these up earlier, before he decided to go out. He won’t mind if we drink a few,” Zac said, settling into the couch next to her. 

“Thanks,” Spencer said, taking the beer from him and trying to ignore the tingles it sent down her spine when their hands touched.

Zac cracked his beer open and settled back farther into the couch, slipping off his shoes and curling up quite comfortably. It occurred to him that he felt so comfortable and natural around Spencer sometimes, in ways he really shouldn’t. 

“So why am I here, really?” Spencer asked between sips of her beer, almost afraid to look up at Zac when he answered.

“Why do you ask so many questions? Why does everything always need to make sense?” 

“I like logic, Zac. I like answers. You don’t give me either. I keep asking because I can’t give up hope that the next time, you’ll have some kind of answer,” Spencer admitted.

Zac stared into his beer as though it might hold some sort of answer for him. Not surprisingly, it didn’t. He opted instead to take another long swig before acknowledging Spencer’s comments with a reply. 

“What can I tell you? I don’t have answers. I don’t know if I’ll ever have answers. This isn’t… this just doesn’t make sense. How could it?”

“That’s the problem. I can’t deal with it not making sense. I can’t do things that don’t make sense. They end up hurting too much,” Spencer replied, feeling her voice catching in her throat. She tried to hide it with a sip of the dark liquid, but she knew it was obvious how the conversation affected her.

“I thought you wanted to just let it be? Weren’t you the one to give me that advice?” Zac asked, gritting his teeth.

“I was. And I was wrong. I didn’t know it would get this far. I thought it was just…”

“Say it,” Zac said, his voice low, almost like a growl, full of gravel and maybe a bit of fear.

“Just a fling. Nothing with any emotions,” Spencer nearly whispered.

“Is it?” 

Spencer gripped her beer tightly, willing her hand to stop shaking. Her other hand dug into the suede of the couch. She needed to hold onto something. It was always that way around Zac – like she was drowning, freefalling out of control and just needed something to brace herself and hold onto what little bit of her sanity was left.

“I don’t know. And we’re back to that problem again. It’s just a big clusterfuck, isn’t it? This whole thing. None of this should have happened,” Spencer said.

Zac frowned. “Do you mean you want to take it back?”

“No… no, I didn’t mean that,” Spencer just managed to stutter out, her voice hardly audible. “You’re a really great guy, and you needed someone, something. If it had to be me, then it had to be me. I regret that I’m part of making your life such a mess but…”

“It would have happened with anyone. I mean, it didn’t have to be you. You’re right. And my life was already a mess so you can’t blame yourself for that,” Zac said, setting his now empty beer bottle on the coffee table and scooting himself closer to Spencer until their knees touched.

“So it has nothing to do with me, really,” Spencer said wrly, ignoring the look on Zac’s face as she chugged the last of her beer. It wouldn’t dull her mind enough for this night, but she knew it was stupid to let herself drunkenly fall back into bed with him anyway.

Zac grabbed Spencer’s hands and squeezed them hard. “I didn’t – no! That’s not what I meant. It has everything to do with you, Spencer. Everything. If this were just some meaningless fling then yeah, it would probably still be a big sign that things with Kate were fucked, but… well, I don’t think it is.”

“Don’t think it’s… a fling?” Spencer asked, blinking as she tried to focus on Zac’s face. The way his dark eyes bore into hers unnerved her. He was this nervous ball of energy most of the time, but could be so strangely still sometimes. It shook her to the core to see that side of him.

Zac bit his lip, holding back the words he wasn’t quite ready to admit, and shook his head softly. “No… no, it’s not.”

Spencer reached her hand up to brush away the strand of hair that had settled in front of Zac’s eyes and saw that he still wore that serious, concentrated look. He meant it. He truly meant it. 

“There’s the problem, then. It needs to be just a fling.”

Zac did not reply, only nodded. Spencer’s hand still played with the strand of hair, twisting it between her fingertips. Her other hand snaked up to wrapped around the back of his neck and she pulled his face to hers. She kissed him gently and slowly, wanting for once to savor it. To memorize the way his plump lips felt against hers, the way he moaned when her fingers tugged at his hair. She needed it all committed to memory for when it wouldn’t happen anymore. 

Zac pulled back from the kiss and ran his lips along Spencer’s jawline, covering it with tiny kisses, working his way toward her ear. He pressed his face against the side of hers and sighed.

“Stay with me tonight,” he whispered, his breath tickling her ear.

Spencer sighed but it came out more like a shudder. “Zac…”

“Just tonight,” he added, pulling back to look her in the eyes again, his hands against the side of her face. “That’s all… you don’t need to be with me again if it’s not what you want.”

“There’s a difference between what I want and what I need,” Spencer replied softly, letting her hands drift down Zac’s chest. The urge to touch him was too great. She could not resist it entirely.

“You’ll stay?”

Spencer nodded. Another battle she had lost.


	27. A Love That Won’t Sit Still

Zac knew he should consider it a win, but convincing Spencer to stay made him feel even more guilt, somehow. He guided Spencer to his small bedroom part of the suite and delicately lowered her to the bed, his hands trailing through her hair and coming to rest on her lower back. Their kisses were slow and gentle for once, not the passionate and fevered kisses they had shared in the past. 

Maybe that was part of what made the guilt well up deep inside of him. He couldn’t hide it now, couldn’t hide the way she made him feel, the way his feelings for Spencer were the reason he knew that other things were coming to an end.

They didn’t touch. Not in a way that really mattered, at least. Zac couldn’t keep his hands from roaming around Spencer’s body, grasping her hips through her jeans and running up and down her legs. Her hands made their way under his shirt, too, her fingernails barely digging into his skin.

He didn’t know how long they rolled around together, feeling each others’ bodies close and covering each others’ exposed skin with kisses. It felt odd to realize that he was content with just that. He didn’t need anything more from her. 

Feeling herself grow exhausted, Spencer pulled away from Zac’s embrace and turned away her head to yawn. She offered Zac a small smile and said, “I’m sorry, dear… I’m still so exhausted from finishing up this semester.”

Zac nodded and lazily ran his hand up and down her arm. “Do you want a shirt to sleep in? You are gonna stay… aren’t you?”

“Didn’t I already say?”

With a relieved grin, Zac stood and retrieved a t-shirt from his suitcase. He handed it to Spencer and sat next to her on the bed as she wiggled out of her jeans underneath the covers. He couldn’t find it in himself to avert his eyes as she slipped her blouse over her head, even though he knew he ought to. The blush on her cheeks made him hate himself a little for it.

Spencer tried not to notice the way Zac’s eyes never left her, but she couldn’t. She felt them burning into her flesh, staring so intently that she feared it would give everything away. Everything she thought was over… it was gone, but now replaced with feelings she hadn’t wanted. The t-shirt she wore was permeated with his scent and she knew it would be in her skin hours after she took it off and left.

Zac lifted the covers and pulled her under them with him, crushing their bodies together. Spencer settled her face against his chest and sighed. He was comfortable. Too comfortable. If it could be so easy, she would spend the rest of her life nestled into his arms. But that wasn’t practical.

With his face nestled into her hair, Zac drifted off to sleep in only minutes. He didn’t remember the last time sleep had come so easily to him. Usually he needed a drink or three before bed to even fall asleep at all. Even then, his sleep was interrupted by nightmares or just the inability to stay asleep at all. He would wake up staring at the clock with strange nightmares fading out of his mind every few minutes. But not with Spencer. His sleep was free of any dreams at all, at least any that haunted him enough to be remembered, and he didn’t wake until the sun was beginning to stream through the curtains.

He pressed a gentle kiss against her forehead and ran his fingers through her hair, perfectly content just to watch her sleep. Had she tossed and turned, or had she too slept peacefully? Zac didn’t know but her sleeping face seemed caught somewhere between sadness and contentment. Conflicted, somehow, and he couldn’t really blame her for that at all.

Perhaps she sensed Zac staring at her, because it was not long before Spencer began to stir and slowly opened her eyes to peer up at him as well. Her eyes now open, Zac could see that the look on her face was without a doubt sadness. He kissed her forehead again, failing to think of any words that might comfort her when he didn’t even know what was wrong.

For several minutes the two lay still, eyes half closed but not sleeping, close but not quite touching. Spencer knew there was so much she needed to say and so much more that she couldn’t. Finally, she settled for just the obvious.

“I should go.”

Zac wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “Nope. I think I’ll kidnap you.”

“Yes, because that’s so practical and rational,” Spencer replied, her tone as light as she could manage.

“Who said it had to be? Fuck rationality. I just need this,” Zac replied, tugging on Spencer’s arms to pull her closer.

“This? What’s this?”

“I mean… you. I need you, okay? I need the way I feel okay for just a little while when I’m with you,” Zac admitted.

Spencer shook her head and shrugged out of his grasp, wriggling out of the covers and sitting up. “But it’s still so wrong. It only lasts a little while, you just said it yourself. It’s good while it’s just me and you, but it isn’t just us. There’s my life here and your life there and the world isn’t going to just align itself so that we can stay in some hotel bed together forever.”

Zac groaned and stood, picking up Spencer’s clothes from where she had tossed them in the floor. He sat down again in front of her, the shirt and jeans clutched in his hands. “So you want to go and end this. Just say it. Just say it and mean it. Don’t keep dragging it on or letting me drag it on.”

“Do you even realize how much that’s asking of me?” Spencer said, picking up her shirt and wringing it in her hands.

“Probably about the same as it’s asking of me,” Zac said with a sigh. 

Without waiting for any sort of response from Spencer, Zac flung the bedroom door open and trudged to the suite’s kitchen. The light was still off in Isaac’s room and he could hear his brother’s loud snores even through the walls. Knowing he wouldn’t have to deal with that confrontation yet was only a small relief to him at the moment. 

In the kitchen, he began idly looking through the small cabinets and refrigerator. They had picked up a few groceries at a corner store after settling into the hotel, during a bout of munchies brought on by hours sitting idly on a plane. Their purchases had included frozen waffles and all the fixings for a nice breakfast. Not knowing quite why he felt the need to make breakfast, Zac nevertheless tossed a few waffles into the toaster and poured himself a glass of orange juice – with just a splash of vodka from the minibar – while he waited for his meal to cook itself.

He spun around guiltily when he heard footsteps and fumbled to shoved the tall vodka bottle back into the cabinet before whoever it was could see it.

“It’s five o’clock somewhere, I suppose,” Spencer remarked, brushing her hands through the tangled mess of curls on her head.

Zac stuttered, trying to think of a good response. His waffles popping out of the toaster spared him from it, and he decided just to ignore her remark entirely. Instead, he turned back to the counter and tossed the waffles onto two plates, then coated them with butter and syrup. 

He took one plate in hand, grabbed a fork and knife, and held it all out to Spencer. “Breakfast?”

“Without the screwdriver, thanks,” she replied, taking the plate from him and perching herself on one of the bar stools.

Zac slid his plate and drink across the bar, then pulled the remaining stool closer to Spencer’s and sat down to eat. The two sat in silence for quite a while, each focusing on their meal instead of the conversation that had to come.

When he could fight it no longer, and had no more food to stall with, Zac shoved his plate away and reached his hand out to touch Spencer’s arm.

“Spencer. You know you’re going to have to give me some answers eventually.”

“Actually,” she replied, in between bites. “I don’t have any sort of obligations to you.”

Zac sighed and pulled his hand back from her arm, feeling her words piercing at him. “Fair enough. Fair enough, but that won’t stop me from wanting answers. From wanting to understand… well, not just you but this whole situation.”

Spencer pushed her plate away, suddenly feeling her appetite gone. She stared at Zac long and hard, willing herself not to bend under the intensity of his eyes staring into her. There were no more answers to be given, she thought. She’d given him all that she had and maybe more.

“I’m sorry, Zac… I don’t know what else to say. Don’t you see how much of a mess this is? That it just can’t go on?”

He shook his head. “No… I mean, yeah I do. But it won’t always be a mess, will it? I can dig myself out of this hole and then things could be good?”

“Can you?” Spencer asked. “Can they? Really? How are you gonna make things good? And for who, anyway? Someone has to lose here and it might end up being all of us.”

Zac poked at his waffles. “Stop being right all the time, will you?”

“I’ve been pretty wrong for the last month or so,” Spencer mumbled. 

“Is that how you really feel about it?”

“I don’t know. Probably,” she replied.

Zac took another bite and chewed it slowly, contemplating his next move. “So what do I do? How do make this less of a clusterfuck?”

“You’ve got choices,” Spencer said. “If you still love her, figure out how to keep her. If you don’t, figure out how to let her go.”

“I don’t love her. I’m not sure when I last did,” Zac admitted, the words coming out much easier than he expected.

Spencer nodded, not entirely surprised by the admission. “So let her go. I’ve got faith that you can do it. You’re strong enough to get out of this and find a new way to be happy.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I always am,” Spencer replied with a grin. “But I should go. I need to get back, and I’d like to make it out here without your brother seeing me.”

“He’ll be sleeping off his hangover for half the day, I’d imagine,” Zac replied. “But I understand.”

Spencer pushed her plate away and stood, not quite sure what to do next. She had all her clothing and belongings back in their proper places but she still didn’t feel quite ready to leave. Something felt wrong about it. 

Zac stood as well and took her gently by the arm, leading her toward the door. It wasn’t a shove. He wasn’t trying to rid himself of her; he merely wanted to spend every last second he could in her presence. He feared that if she had her way, this would be the last. They stood awkwardly by the door, neither one quite ready to open it.

“What about you?” Zac asked.

“What about me?” Spencer repeated. “I’ll go on. I always do.”

“Yeah, but…” he hesitated and nervously reached out to touch Spencer’s hair. “Could you ever love me?”

She couldn’t resist reaching up to brush her lips across Zac’s cheek. To soften the blow, maybe. He turned his head and their lips met, softly. More softly perhaps than they ever had, in kisses much slower and less demanding than the lusty ones they normally shared.

Spencer pulled back, pressing her hand to Zac’s chest to keep him from drawing her back into another kiss. “No, I don’t… I don’t think I could love you, Zac.”

Her head down, she grabbed the door handle and hurried from the room before he could stop her. Zac reached his hand out for her but caught only air. 

She was gone. 

He leaned against the door, pressing his weight against it just to keep himself from collapsing to the floor. Tears didn’t come but he felt an emptiness inside his chest that ached like nothing he’d ever known before. He’d managed to lose everything he had and some things he hadn’t even known he wanted. 

On the other side of the door, Spencer stood, her back pressed firmly against the cool wood. She had to move. She had to. She willed her feet to go, to carry her away before she turned back and took back her last words. Holding back tears, she pushed herself from the door and made her way to the elevator, trying not to wonder if she had made the right choice.


End file.
